Violently Happy
by MarksandSpence
Summary: Sunnydale has a new resident and LA a new sometimes visitor. She's smart, cute, troubled and not human. Mayhem, love, angst, hilarity and redemption ensue. Ensemble case. Highlander crossover...sort of. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Violently Happy

AUTHOR: Mad

SETTING: Buffy Season 5 (post-Crush); Angel Season 2

RATING: Mostly PG-13/T for language and violence

SUMMARY: Sunnydale has a new resident and LA a new sometimes visitor. She's smart, cute, troubled and not human. She likes swords, shoes and a certain blonde vampire whom she'd first met more than a century ago. Sex, mayhem, love, angst, hilarity and redemption ensue. Highlander crossover (sort of).

DISCLAIMER: Spike, Angel, Buffy, Anya, Xander, Willow, Tara, Giles, Dawn, Glory, Gunn, Cordelia, Wesley, Darla, Drusilla etc. are all owned by Mutant Enemy. I have no affiliation with ME and I am incredibly indebted to them for creating such fantastic characters for me to use and abuse! Also, the character of Duncan MacLoud and the Highlander universe is the property of Davis-Panzer Productions, Inc. and Gétéve (I think). However, the characters of Miranda, Alex, Joseph, Phil, Trachys, Jimmie, Father Dunn and pretty much anyone else you don't recognize from BtVS or AtS are entirely my creations. If you want to use them in your own story, please contact me first.

FEEDBACK: Please. It is so very important for my sanity!

AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION/DISCLAIMERS:

I conceived all the main events of this story in a fairly short period of time during Season 5 of BtVS. I had two things in mind when I conceived of this story—To introduce a character into the buffyverse who was not human, but not a demon ( not necessarily evil) and to give Spike a love interest who wasn't Buffy. Thus, Miranda was born. Though I created the personality of Miranda from scratch, I did not have the energy to create what she was. Therefore, I borrowed from the Highlander series and decided to make Miranda an Immortal. PLEASE, all you Highlander fans out there take note: At the time I conceived of this story, I had only watched a handful of episodes and had never seen the films. I went to a few websites and that is ALL. I took what I found in my very brief research and then made up the rest, so I am CONFIDENT that I have seriously violated the Highlander dogma. I apologize and mean no offence! For me, it was a simply a convenient starting point. So please don't flame me for any Highlander blasphemies I have committed. It will only make me sad. I mean no disrespect!

I conceived of the story during Season 5, but didn't start writing it until after Season 6 and now the show is over. Certain things about Spike's past have come to light since Season 5, but I did not back correct. I left the story pretty much as-is, regardless of future and/or past events.

Though primarily a love story, there's a fair bit of action and adventure to move things along. I also focused almost entirely on the primary characters (Miranda and Spike) and so don't look for extensive character development of Anya for example or even many scenes in which neither of the primary characters appear. Finally, the story spends a lot of time exploring Miranda's character—in truth, it is mostly her story set in the buffyverse.

Finally, the story was originally written as a serial, which I doled out to three readers/friends on a weekly to monthly basis. It was intended as an experiment in writing for me (not to mention a very fun little hobby) and I had not anticipated making it available to a wider audience. But, my readers were amused and entertained enough to encourage me to share and so here I go. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE feedback---positive, negative or whatever so long as it's constructive. I'm also happy to clarify things or answer questions or whatever.

BTW, the story is told in five parts, broken into chapters of a few scenes each.

One more thing. As I am revisiting/editing this story for posting here, I feel that the beginning (first few chapters) is a bit weak and has a touch of the MarySue virus. I'm not one to substantially change a story once it's written, so all I'll say is please stick with it even if the first few chapters don't thrill you. It gets much more interesting! And I think the MarySue-ness also fades with time...

TIMING: To get the appropriate setting, I'm going to have to go with a hypothetical time that is somewhere in season 5 (post-Crush). So Buffy knows that Spike is in love with her AND YET, he's kinda-sorta a functioning part of the scoobies, i.e., everyone is dealing with the situation…Spike has toned down his 'plays' for Buffy's affection (given up hope?) but still hangs around and everyone else just tries not to think about it. Everything else is as it was…Giles is still around and owns the magic shop. Xander and Anya are still together (but not engaged) and so are Tara and Willow. Oh, but Joyce is dead and so Buffy is having to do the parenting. I think that is most of it. Oh, and one more disclaimer. I wrote this first scene BEFORE having seen Dead Things. Really.

Scene 1: First contact

Setting: Edge of a graveyard bordering a wooded area. Buffy and the gang (Willow & Xander) are taking on a surprisingly large gang of vamps. There didn't seem to be so many at first, but then more keep showing up. Buffy et al. are able to stay on top of things, but it is rather chaotic. Suddenly out of no-where, there is what appears to be a lightening bolt, which strikes a bit off into the distance in the direction of the woods. Everyone (including the vamps) stops for just a moment until the lightning is over. Immediately after, fighting resumes and the gang dusts what they think are the last of the vamps. As this is Sunnydale, and nothing is never quite what it seems, they decide to venture in the direction of the woods to check out the site of the lightning strike. As soon as they enter the woods, however, another group of vamps jump out from behind some trees. It's looking a bit sticky, as the scoobs were caught by surprise and it's very dark. Then Spike shows up and things begin to get back under control. After much fighting, Buffy stakes the last one (she thinks) and they're all just about to take a breath. Then in a beat, another stumbles out through some bushes and Buffy reflexively stakes it straight in the chest. This time, however, no dust…when Buffy pulls out the stake, the body simply falls backward. Oh crap. Everyone freezes in amazement.

Spike: "So, not a vampire, then." (stating the obvious)

Willow: "Surely a demon of some sort….right? (She offers hopefully, seeing the look of horror that has now crossed Buffy's face.)

They all walk over to the body.

Xander: (a bit taken aback) "Wow. Quite a hottie….(scolding look from Willow)….I mean, for a demon and all. You'd think she was…"

Buffy: (Now kneeling next to the body, taking the pulse.) "She IS human. She's warm…and bleeding. (She looks up at everyone…major freak-out pending) No pulse."

Spike: (a bit flippant) "Not terribly surprising—stake-to-the-heart usually stops it beating."

Buffy: (pleading) "What can we do? CPR? Does anyone remember? God, why did I skip health class so much in high school?"

Spike: "Yeah, not really going to fix the big gaping hole in her heart, now is it?"

Frown from Buffy.

Xander: "I hate to say it, but Spike's right. I don't think there's much we can do."

Everyone just looks at each other, not knowing what to do.

Willow: (confused sympathy) "We can't just leave her here…..it might rain….I mean, there was that lightening…s'pose if you're dead you don't care so much if you get wet, but still….I…"

Buffy: (eyes filled with tears; voice shaking) "We're NOT going to leave her here. Let's….uh….let's take her back to the house. Giles is staying with Dawn. He'll know what to do."

Not TERRIBLY logical, but they're all kinda freaked and not thinking clearly and so are relieved at the idea of ANY plan. Spike starts to scoop up the body (not really looking at her) with one hand behind her neck for support and the other under her knees.

Spike: (suddenly grimacing) "Ow. Bloody hell." (quickly yanks his arm out from behind her neck and her head drops down to the ground) "She's got a cross 'round her neck; someone want to move it?"

He sucks on the burnt indentation of a cross on his hand.

Buffy: "Careful!"

Spike: "She's DEAD; not like she's gonna suffer from a bump on the head; (looking around) some help here?"

Willow, looking a bit annoyed walks over and moves the cross charm from behind the dead woman's neck to the front, stopping for a moment to look at it before tucking it into her (the body's) shirt to prevent it from falling back again. It's a celtic looking cross, with a red stone in the middle (a ruby?).

Willow: "There." (Looking a bit sad as she glances at Spike and walks on.)

Spike scoops up the body again and they head off. They arrive and decide to send Xander in before waltzing in with the body (lord knows, Dawn has seen ENOUGH dead people!). Xander, in his usual trying-too-hard-to-be-casual style convinces Dawn that Anya needs her at the magic shop RIGHT AWAY. She shrugs it off, knowing on some level that they're trying to get rid of her, but still heads off with Xander. The rest of them come in, Spike takes the body upstairs and puts it in the bathroom tub (minimizing the future clean-up). They tell Giles what happened. Giles suggests that the first thing is to try and figure out who she is. They decide to send Spike back to the woods to look around for identification and/or clues to her identity. Much discussion ensues…Buffy worries about losing custody of Dawn if they go to the police….blah blah blah…Willow suggests making the body 'disappear'…more angst and discussion…Tara shows up; Xander comes back….still more angst and discussion…

MEANWHILE, upstairs. The 'body' opens her eyes. She looks around, then looks at her wound. Although still a gaping hole in her chest, it is obvious that it is beginning to heal. Tiny flashes of light move around the wound, like little electrical maggots. She weakly gets up out of the tub. Noticing that she's in a bathroom, she opens up the cupboards, looking for bandages. Next we see her tip-toeing into a nearby room, where she takes off her bloody, torn shirt and rummages through a closet looking for a replacement. She finds something very cute and, pleased with it, puts it on (it's a bit small; she frowns in the mirror; but will do). She investigates the windows (a way to sneak out), but decides there is no easy way to make the jump in her current state. She stands at the top of the stairs, listening. She sneaks down a few stairs to hear a bit better. She hears the emotional discussions going on downstairs. Scene switches to the living room again, where Buffy is saying…

Buffy: (Crying, being comforted by Willow) "It was an accident. We'll take the body to the station. The police HAVE to understand that it was a mistake…I mean….there were witnesses, right? I…."

Xander: "Mistakenly plunging a wooden stake through someone's chest may just be a little too much for our town's finest to comprehend. (feeling bad) I'm just saying."

Everyone looks worn-out. Giles is looking particularly solemn and distressed. It's clear he doesn't think the police will understand.

Miranda/the body: (Walking slowly down the stairs, but trying to look strong.) "No need for tears—no body, no worries. (pause) Right then. If someone will give me a clue as to where I am, I'll be on my way." (English accent; rather posh; she's speaking in a rather flippant/cheerful tone)

(WRITER'S NOTE: As the story is written in screenplay format and YET is not actually on the screen, I figure that many of you will be wondering what Miranda looks like. It's a difficult question, because I don't have a specific vision, i.e., I haven't chosen an actress who I think would encapsulate what I have been vaguely imagining. But I'll have a go. Miranda is on the tall side of average—5'7" to 5'8". She has reddish brown hair, wavy, about shoulder length or sometimes a bit longer. She's rather shapely, in the sense that she has more of a woman's figure than a girl's figure—i.e., more like Cordelia or Lilah than Buffy or Fred or Faith or Eve or...you get the picture. I guess I would describe her as pretty in a rather classical way. I've been trying hard to pick an actress that is most similar to what I'm imagining and the only one that comes to mind is Connie Nielsen (played opposite Russell Crowe in Gladiator)—it's not a perfect fit. I see Miranda as having slightly softer/rounder features. Hopefully that's enough to give you an idea and you can let your imagination fill in the rest. As mentioned in the story, she's english and her accent probably resembles Wesley's or Giles' more than Spike's, though she does use a bit more in the way of informal slang. She has a strength and confidence about her that is immediately noticeable, though not in an arrogant or overly masculine sort of way—A nicely feminine strength and power. She also has the propensity to be quite maternal, particularly around children and young adults (like Dawn).)

Everyone looks up. Astonished, confused babbling ensues.

Buffy: (standing up) "But you were dead…I…"

Miranda: "Don't be silly. It was only a flesh wound (in a voice indicating she's quoting Monty Python). Really, I'm fine. A map is all I need. I'm rather new in town."

Buffy: (almost mildly annoyed) "You had no pulse. I put a stake through your heart...I mean, I'm sorry, but I THINK I know when I've killed someone."

Miranda: "Oh, so THAT's what it was. Explains the splinters (as she looks down at her now covered wound)…nasty little weapon, really. Effective, I suppose, when wielded by someone of your strength, but HONESTLY, I'll be picking the wood out for weeks, I'm sure."

Buffy: (looking guilty now) "I'm sorry. I mean, I didn't mean to hurt you….uh…it was a mistake…I thought…"

Miranda: "Yes, yes, I've been eavesdropping…got the gist. From the sound of things, you're some kind of specialized demon hunter and in the heat of battle you mistook me for a vampire, ergo, stake to the heart. (as if speaking to herself) Who knew I'd moved to the bloody hellmouth. Come to think of it, who knew something called the 'hellmouth' actually existed….and in California no less. Well, I guess that part's not too surprising…(back to speaking to the scoobies) So anyway, an honest mistake…certainly ruined my evening and perhaps the next few days, that's for sure, but no hard feelings. I'll just be on my way."

She starts heading towards the door, but then is overcome by weakness and almost falls over. Giles moves over quickly and steadies her.

Willow: "Shouldn't we get you to a hospital? (looking at the others) shouldn't we take her to a hospital?"

Miranda: "Not much of a hospital person, me. Dreadful places. Spent enough time in them already for one lifetime…No, I'll be fine." (not looking particularly fine)

Giles: "You obviously are not fit to be walking all over town. Why don't you sit down for a moment. Can I fix you a cup of tea?"

He's giving looks to Buffy et al., indicating that they should keep her here as long as possible—what kind of being is she? Why is she here?

Miranda: (An exasperated sigh. It's true. She probably wouldn't get very far walking.) "I suppose you're right. Tea would be lovely (a beat, grimacing as she attempts to move)…although I'd prefer a whiskey if you have it."

Giles smiles at this as he walks her over to the couch. She sits back, obviously in some pain.

Giles: "I doubt if Buffy keeps whiskey in the house. You'll have to make due with tea for now, I'm afraid."

Miranda: "Fair enough. Though if I am going to stay for a few minutes, could I trouble you for some painkillers? (to Buffy) Surely someone in your line of work must have a stash of something."

Tara: "I think I've got some Advil in my purse." (She offers, helpfully)

Buffy: (Seeing the obvious disappointment on Miranda's face) "I think I've got something a bit stronger upstairs."

She goes upstairs; Giles is in the kitchen making tea. Miranda closes her eyes for a moment as she leans back into the couch. When she opens them, she sees that Xander, Willow and Tara are all staring at her, questioningly.

Miranda: "Go on then" (as she thrusts out her arm, wrist up; they look puzzled) "Pulse? You're all wondering if I have a pulse….go on."

Xander reaches out and feels for a pulse.

Xander: "Got one all right and it's really REALLY fast…is that…normal for…uh…someone of your…uh….that normal for you?"

Miranda: (frowning) "Not especially. (Suddenly thinking about what she SHOULD say) Only when I'm healing."

Buffy returns with the pills; Miranda takes them (all of them). Giles comes out with the tea. Miranda takes a cup. They all sit down in silence, watching her as she sips her tea. Rather awkward silence.

Giles: (trying to break the silence) "So what part of England are you from?"

Miranda: "Just west of London, actually, although it's been years."

Giles: "Yes, for me as well. Do you miss it?"

Miranda: "It's funny, I…."

Buffy interrupts.

Buffy: (Exasperated sigh. To herself) "Where's Anya when you need her" (to everyone) "So, don't mean to rush through the small-talk here, but can we get to how you were dead a few minutes ago? Because that's really the question of the moment. In my opinion."

Miranda: "Right. I have a suggestion. Since I'm the injured party here, why don't we start with you (to Buffy)….and your friends here. You tell me who YOU are and I'll jump in."

Buffy looks at Giles. He gives her the nod/shrug.

Buffy: "I'm Buffy…" etc. etc. (brief explanation ensues; everyone introduces themselves)

Miranda: "Ok, let me make sure I've got this straight. Buffy, you're something called a slayer, which compels you to fight vampires and other demons and monsters, of which there are many different kinds. Giles, you're job is basically to help Buffy fight these various kinds of demon by knowing important details about them, including, but not limited to how to kill them. Xander, you're a carpenter of sorts who is friends with Buffy and who helps her on occasion with the 'saving of the world' business. Willow and Tara, you're friends of Buffy who also happen to be witches, which comes in very handy from time to time. And you all went to high school together."

Xander: "Except Tara."

Miranda: "Right. Except Tara"

Willow: "But we all go to college together"

Tara: "Well, except Xander"

Miranda: "Right, Xander, the carpenter. Ok, then. Is that it?

They nod and shrug, indicating yes; Just then, Anya comes to the door, knocks and peeks her head in. Xander waves her in.

Anya: "Hi. Dawn got bored dusting the books at the shop. Dusting didn't quite sound urgent enough, but it was all I could think of. I took her to one of her little friend's houses for the night. (beat; looks at Miranda) Who are you?"

Miranda: "I'm the lucky girl that Buffy accidentally staked tonight. And you are…another college mate, I suppose?"

Anya: "Oh, so you're the dead body. (grumbling/frowning at Xander; to him: "She doesn't look dead to me. I mean, she's talking and all"). High school, sort of. I date Xander." (She grabs Xander's hand possessively.)

Miranda: "Good for you. Where were we? Hm. (Miranda takes this all in and says to no-one in particular) Well, I've dealt with witches before, so that's nothing new. (Seeing the 'concerned' looks on W/T's faces) Oh, I mean, in a positive way. I've done…business with witches before. Always found them to be very amicable (a smile to Willow and Tara). And I've seen a vampire once before, so I knew of their existence. Had no idea that there were other sorts of demons and beasts roaming around. Interesting. (Thinking for a moment—An idea flickers across her face; looks at Giles). What about dragons? Are there dragons—you know of the flying/cave-dwelling/fire-breathing kind?" (She asks, hopefully)

Giles: "What? No, not that I'm aware of. Why would you…?"

Miranda: "Oh. (disappointed) I've just always hoped there were real dragons. I mean if there are witches, slayers, vampires and demons of various kinds I thought there might be a chance of dragons. Quite disappointing, that. (A pause as her mind wanders off; realizing awkward silence) Sorry. (suddenly aware) Must be the pain medication kicking in."

Giles: "And you are….?"

Miranda: "Miranda" (They're all waiting expectantly for her to say more. She doesn't. She's off in her own world (meds?). After a moment, she notices that they're all waiting for her to say something more) Oh, right. Um, yes, well you're not crazy. My heart did stop and now it has started again. It's happened before. The wound should heal entirely in a couple of days, although that may depend on a number of things." (She's off again, thinking of something.) "Did you happen to notice a sword?"

Buffy: "No. We weren't really in state to notice anything, having just killed you and all. We sent someone back to look around. He should be back by now. I wonder what's taking him so long."

Xander: "Yeah, I'm sure hurrying back here to help out is tops on Spike's priority list. We shouldn't have sent him alone."

Giles: (To Miranda) "So you have regenerative powers. Anything else?"

Miranda: (Thinking about how much to say and how to say it) "Is it true that vampires are immortal? That they don't grow old?" (nod from Giles) "I'm like that as well—minus the teeth."

Giles: "And yet your heart beats. That's very unusual. (Miranda shrugs; somewhat distracted). I don't believe I've come across a species of demon like you before. Are there others?"

Miranda: (rather incredulous) "Demon? ….Species? Don't know what you're on about; s'not bloody Animal Planet—I'll have you know that you'd be hard pressed to find ANY differences between me and you. Even a doctor couldn't tell."

Giles: (confused) "So sorry. Didn't mean to offend, it's just, well, if you're not human and you're not a demon. What sort of being are you?"

Miranda: "In answer to your previous question, yes. There are others like me. As for the next question, I don't quite know how to answer that."

Giles: (curious, and perhaps a bit suspicious) "What is you business in Sunnydale, if you don't mind my asking?"

Anya: (interrupts, blurting) "Are you a good guy or a bad guy? I think that's what everyone really wants to know (looking around), right? Good or Evil. (explaining to Miranda) They don't deal well with ambiguity."

Miranda: (Obviously annoyed by that question. Takes a deep breath.) Listen, I don't want to be rude. You all seem like very nice people and I have no intention of interfering with your business here in Sunnydale. But at the moment, I am in considerable pain and rather moderate danger, so might I suggest we continue this little chit-chat another time?"

Giles: (a bit disappointed) "Yes. Yes, of course. Shall I give you a ride home?"

Xander: "What's that with the considerable danger? That just for you specifically, or should we be mobilizing the troops right about now?"

Willow: (to Xander in a low voice) "I'm pretty sure she said considerable pain and moderate danger, which I think is definitely less scary."

Miranda: "That would be moderate personal danger. Not to worry." (contemplates for a moment) "Is there a church or a temple nearby?"

Everyone looks around, confused and perhaps a bit embarrassed that they don't have a quick answer.

Buffy: "Sure. There's one just up the street from here."

Miranda: "Denomination?"

Buffy: "Unitarian, I think. Why?"

Miranda: (frowning) "Never been clear on what they're all about. Um what would be the second closest church?"

Buffy: "I think there's a catholic church about a mile from here."

Miranda: "Perfect. I'd be grateful to get a lift from one of you. If your friend finds my sword, have him bring it to me there. I'll wait 'til morning if necessary."

Buffy: "You're welcome to stay here. I don't see why…."

Miranda: (interrupting) "Cheers, but I'll be safer there—long story—definitely not in the mood to explain."

Willow: "Yeah, um that might be a problem. I mean, Giles can give you ride to the church (to Giles:"I mean, that's not a problem, right?") but the Spike dropping off the sword part…uh, he's not exactly the church-going type."

Buffy: "Spike's a vampire. Long story…definitely not the time to explain."

Just then, a knock at the door. Buffy goes to answer it. It's Spike. They talk at the door.

Buffy: "What took you so long. Did you find anything?"

Spike: "I talked to some…people. Found someone who can get rid of the body quickly…without a trace. Just say the word."

Buffy: "Oh right. Um 'NO' would be the word I'd say to THAT suggestion, but actually there isn't a body anymore."

Spike: (confused) "Willow already take care of it? Thought she might be able to teleport it or something…"

Buffy: "No…NO (annoyed). She's not dead. She's Ok."

Spike: (disbelieving) "What do you mean she's OK? She was DEAD. Vampire, remember? I think I know a dead person when I see one."

Buffy opens the door, so that he can look in. The back of Miranda's head is visible from the door. She's being helped to her feet. They (Giles and Miranda) move towards the door.

Buffy: "Listen, it's late. I don't have time to explain this now. Did you find a sword?"

Spike: (shrugging his shoulders as if to say "whatever") "Two of 'em. Nice, too. Well made and kept. One had…" (He's cut off.)

Miranda: (Interrupting as she steps up to the doorway.) "You found my swords, then. Brilliant."

Spike: (still looking at Buffy) "Yeah, quite a pair. Both yours?" (glancing over to her)

Miranda: (as Spike looks up and they lock eyes for an instant, a puzzled look crosses Miranda's face. No time now, but…hm) "You can have one if you like. See it as reimbursement for your trouble."

She gives him a look; she's hiding something—what was he about to say to Buffy?

Giles: "There's no need for that, right Spike?"

Miranda: "Oh, but I insist. I only ask that I choose which to keep."

Spike takes the swords out from his jacket. Hands the first one to Miranda. Gives her a look as he reaches for the second.

Spike: "This one had a bit of mud on it." (He says as he wipes the blade on the inside of his coat as he pulls it out; hands it to Miranda.)

Miranda: "Thanks. (looks them both over; tosses one to Spike; he catches it; Hands the other to Giles (he almost drops it…very heavy)) Time to go, then?"

They walk through the door, Giles supporting Miranda. Once they're to the car, Spike makes a move to come inside Buffy's house. She closes the door in his face as she says "good night". He hesitates for a moment, shaking his head. He turns to go, admiring his new acquisition.

Some time passes (couple weeks?). Miranda becomes friends with the scoobies, in part because she's new in town and they are the first people she meets, but also because she is intrigued by their world. She never goes out on patrol with them, but instead helps Giles out with research…her specialty is languages and encryption. She's also not bad with computers, as she's taken a course or two to bring her up to speed on the 'new' technology. Not surprisingly, she's in the antiques business and is in the process of opening up a shop in town. It's not quite clear what the hold-up is (to be explained later) and now she is mostly just 'hanging' out with these new and interesting people she's found. She doesn't say much about her past or much else about WHAT she is; she's been a rather passive participant. Giles takes a bit of a liking to her, as she's very smart and witty (and English, of course). Even though she physically looks to be only 20+ years old, she dresses more maturely and so appears a bit older than the rest (plus she has a slightly more mature air about her, not surprisingly as she's 130+ years old). She doesn't encourage him in any sort of flirtatious way, but they do probably spend a bit more time together initially than the rest due to common interests. As she is not out on patrol with the 'gang', she hasn't at this point run into Spike again.

Scene 2: The magic shop

(Everyone but Xander is there. Anya is doing business type things. Giles, Willow, Tara and Buffy are sitting at a big table full of books working on something. Miranda walks in the door with a computer case.)

Miranda: "Lovely evening, isn't it?" (As she puts her bag on the floor and begins to set-up her computer; Mutual greetings from the group. Giles' demeanor changes every-so-slightly upon her arrival. He tries hard to hide it, but he's quite happy to see her.) "I think I may have made some progress on that text you showed me the other day."

Giles: "Let's have a look."

Buffy: (Noticing something; looking at Miranda) "I have a shirt just like that."

Miranda: "The operative word is HAD—it's the one I took from your house the night we met. Looks fantastic, don't you think? The rest of my wardrobe is so old."

Buffy: (looking a bit worried) "Oh. Right. Borrowing. Sure."

Miranda: Oooh, 'bit of a misunderstanding there. Yeah, I'm keeping it."

Buffy: (pouty, but not all that serious) "But it's one of my favorites…and you can't just TAKE things…and I wanted to wear that today…it goes with these pants."

Miranda: "Aw, Buffy, where's your World Cup spirit? Exchanging shirts after battle sounds perfectly reasonable to me."

Buffy: "Yeah, but the one you left was all ripped and bloody."

Miranda: "Oh, but I guess it wasn't so much a battle as you jamming a wooden stake through my heart. Yeah, I'm keeping the shirt."

Buffy: (guilty) "Works for me."

Miranda turns her attention back to her computer to show Giles what she's been working on. Just then, Spike walks in. They all look up. Miranda, still standing, tries hard to go back to what she was doing on the computer—Giles is looking over her shoulder at the screen—but she is distracted and keeps looking at Spike. There's something familiar. He doesn't really even notice her (focused on Buffy, as usual). He saunters up to the counter and sits.

Buffy: (to Spike) "You're a bit early (for patrolling). Wasn't planning on heading out so soon."

Spike: (to everyone) "Thought you should know that certain segments of this town are BUZZING about some BIG EXCITEMENT heading this way in a few days."

Giles: "Dammit. (Rubbing his eyes). We really must figure out the meaning of this text as soon as possible if we're going to be able to understand what's going on. (to Spike) I don't suppose you've been able to find anything a bit more specific about the upcoming events?"

Spike: "Sorry. Everyone's being especially tight lipped about this one…and they don't exactly open up to me like they used to, you know."

Giles: (to Buffy) "I think it would be best for you to stay in tonight until we have a better idea of what's going on."

Buffy: "Fine by me. I could use a bit of couch-time…(seeing Giles' face)…I mean, time here on the couch at the Magic shop, helping out with the research."

Miranda, failing to focus on the computer, suddenly looks up, confidently, as if she's just realized something; Noticing, Giles says…

Giles: "Did you find something?"

Miranda: (to herself) "Of course." (Now looking directly at Spike; she exclaims confidently) "William Manning of Stockbridge Lane."

Everyone looks up; Spike turns to her, looking more closely now.

Giles: (confused) "What"?

Spike: (bemused/curious) "Been a while since I've heard that one"

Miranda: (Smiling now; excited to have figure it out.) "It IS you, isn't it? Or WAS you, or…(confused; turning to Buffy) Do they remember? Do they remember their life from before?

Buffy: "Sometimes, I think. You know, he's sitting right there, why don't you ask him?"

Spike hops off the counter and leans against it instead. Looks at Miranda expectantly. Well?

Miranda: "Oh right (a bit flustered). Sorry. (to Spike) Do have memories from your life before?

Spike: "Yeah. (beat) A bit"

Buffy knows it's more than a 'bit' but doesn't say anything.

Miranda: "You don't remember me, do you?"

Spike: "Give me a bit of context, love—it's been a while"

Miranda: "My name back then was Sumner; Miranda Sumner. We were neighbors, sort of—I lived at Beallton Estate. Your older sister, Sarah, was my best friend."

Spike shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, as if to say "maybe I remember, maybe I don't". He's trying hard to pretend that he IS NOT a bit uncomfortable, being not terribly proud of who he was before.

Willow: (disbelieving) "Spike had a sister?" (Everyone seems to find the idea of this quite amusing.)

Spike: (mildly offended) "What's so funny about THAT?" (Not truly understanding that to the scoobies, he isn't a person at all and so to THEM it seems ridiculous that he would have had a family of any kind.)

Miranda: "Sarah was lovely. Best friend I've ever had. (thinking back nostalgically) Ah, she was clever—perhaps a bit too smart for her own good…quick witted with quite an acid tongue if you pushed her. (back to Spike) I can't believe you don't remember me. Quite a blow to a girl's ego—I had always assumed you had a bit of a crush on me—following your older sister and me around all the time, making a right pest of yourself back when you were a boy. (shrugs) Oh well. No matter. Still, small world isn't it?

Tara: "Wow. I can't believe you two knew each other. I mean, what are the odds that you'd both end up here…in Sunnydale."

Willow: "And lets not forget the whole immortality thing, which is perhaps the MOST unlikely of the unlikelies."

Spike is still being a bit coy about the whole business. Not letting on how much he remembers. Goes to light a cigarette, but a glare from Anya stops him.

Miranda: "Actually not as unlikely as you might think. (a bit mischievous now) Speaking of which, (back to Spike) even if you don't remember that far back, surely you remember the last time we met?"

Giles: (sarcastically) "Yes, please, do tell…I'm sure we're all very curious to know because we have absolutely nothing of importance to do."

Buffy: "Oh, come on. Sounds like it could be juicy."

Miranda: (To Spike) "I'll give you a little hint. It was London; theatre season. It was a week before my 22nd birthday and I was meant to be shopping for wedding clothes…"

Shot of Spike's face while she's talking; suddenly remembering something, he stiffens and starts inching towards the door.

Spike: (interrupting) "Yeah, about that, I really don't think anyone here would be particularly interested and you heard what the ol' Watcher here said…important things to figure out and such…I'll just be heading off then…"

Buffy: (guessing; to Spike) "You DIDN'T."

Spike gives a bit of a shrug, not quite wanting to admit it, but not quite denying it either. Buffy shakes her head and rolls her eyes in disgust. Spike is obviously not happy with her reaction. Crap.

Spike: (To Miranda) "This isn't some sort of vengence thing, is it? 'cause you know, that was such a long time ago…and….uh…" (More inching towards the door.)

Willow: "You bit her? When she was shopping for her wedding…that's just…"

Tara: "RUDE."

Willow: "I was going to say WRONG, but RUDE works."

Spike: (defensive) "Come on now…I'd been a vampire for about a week. Vampires BITE people—it wasn't personal."

Giles: "It's actually quite common for vampires to initially kill those closest to them…family, friends."

Anya is sitting down eating popcorn, engrossed in the conversation.

Anya: (to no one in particular) "This is getting really good. Can't WAIT to see what happens next!"

Miranda: (ignoring everyone else) "You misunderstand me. I'm not angry with you for biting me. Quite the contrary, I owe you a great debt."

Spike: (skeptical) "How's that then?"

Everyone is now engrossed; Anya seems a bit disappointed.

Miranda: (Thinks for a moment…how to explain it? To everyone:) "Immortals—others like me—are not born immortal. We grow up as other children do, susceptible to disease and other natural human deaths. We only become invulnerable to these things—and aging—once we've 'died' the first time. And it can't be just any death—it must be violent. Which might explain why there are so few females of my kind roaming about. Most immortals were formed during wars or conflicts of that sort—things women are traditionally barred from. So, many of those destined for immortality never achieve it. They live out their lives or die of some dreadful disease and no one is the wiser. Thanks to Wi…Spike, I became what I was meant to become and not only that, but get to live out eternity in the body of a 21 year old. Can you imagine how dreadful it would be to get shot or something when you were 80 and have to live out eternity as a wrinkled old bag? No thanks. So I am most certainly NOT out for revenge. I think it is simply a fantastic coincidence running into you again."

Pause. Everyone is just waiting to see how this will play out—they're all looking at Spike.

Spike: "Right then. No hard feelings. I'll just be off…"

He abruptly heads out the door, pulling out his pack of cigarettes on the way.

Miranda looks a bit disappointed. Everyone just seems to shrug it off.

Giles: (Totally ignoring the Spike business) "So you were born to human parents?"

Miranda: (distracted) "No….I…we're all foundlings. Adopted. Don't know if we're actually born at all. Immortals can't have children."

Willow: "Wow. That was pretty intense (referring to the whole interaction). You really don't hate him for killing you—I mean, even temporarily?"

Miranda: "No, of course not. It's not like he could help it—he's a vampire—that's what they do, right? And besides, if you're going to go, it's really not such a bad way. Better than a stake to the heart, for one."

Buffy: (humorously defensive) "Ok, ok, now many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

Miranda: (small laugh) "Just a few more, really, and I'll be done with it. (Friendly smile directed at Buffy.) Sorry, but I'm feeling a bit worn out. Giles, if it's all right, I'll just put the file on a disc for you to look over and head home."

Giles: "Do you need a lift to your flat?"

Miranda: "No thanks. It's a lovely night."

Miranda packs up her things and leaves. As she starts to walk down the sidewalk towards home, she notices Spike a few yards off down the alley smoking a cigarette. She walks by, then stops, takes a breath and turns back. When she's a few feet away, she says:

Miranda: "Spare a fag?"

Spike offers her a cigarette from the pack. She takes it and then he offers her a light. She lights it and takes a drag.

Miranda: "Thanks. No one smokes anymore. SUCH a nightmare."

She starts to walk off after another nod of thanks.

Spike: (He calls after her) "Miranda. (She stops and turns around; pause) I DO remember. A bit fuzzy…like a dream or something, some of it. S'just a bit of a thing talking about it with all of 'em sittin' there."

Miranda: "Yeah, sorry about that. Hadn't meant to be so public about everything"

Spike: "Fourteen."

Miranda: "What?"

Spike: "I did have a bit of a crush—when I was fourteen and you were sixteen. Before I understood who your family was."

Miranda: (With a bit of a smile). "Thanks for that. (Starts to head off) You going to be around Saturday?"

Spike: "What's Saturday?"

Miranda: "They think that's going to be the day whatever-it-is is going to happen. Plan is to meet at the shop to uh…make a plan or something."

Spike: "Yeah, I'll probably be there."

Miranda: "I've got something for you." (She says as she turns to walk off down the street.)

Intrigued look on Spike's face as she leaves.

End scene.

Scene 3: Saturday afternoon. Back at the magic shop.

It's only Willow, Buffy and Dawn at this point. Anya is in the basement doing inventory or something. In walks Miranda through the front door, a tad out of breath and looking disheveled.

Miranda: "Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything? God, spent the last few hours crawling around this storage room I've got outside of town. You'd think they'd have better lighting or something—you'd be lucky to find an elephant! Took a bit longer than expected."

Buffy: (nonchalant) "It's cancelled. We left a message on your machine."

Miranda: "What? The big 'impending doom' thing? Cancelled just like that?"

Willow: "Giles had the date wrong. He's still working on it. Thinks it might be NEXT Saturday."

Dawn: "But next Saturday is Valentine's Day! There's a dance at school. Please can I go?"

Buffy: "Assuming the world hasn't ended."

Miranda: (disappointed) "Huh. I was quite looking forward to helping out with the _impending doom_…. Even wore my fighting shoes." (Looking down at her feet with a pout.)

The shoes don't exactly look like what one might think of as 'fighting shoes'; they're very fashionable black leather boots with a decent heal.

Buffy: "Nice. Let's hope you won't need them. Want to come to the Bronze with us later? We're heading off for a bit of dancing fun once Xander gets off work."

Miranda: "Thanks for the offer. Maybe. Not convinced that I'm up for a 'big crowd' sort of place at the moment. Has Spike been around at all?"

Dawn: "No. (hopefully) Why, is he supposed to be…around?"

Buffy: "He's almost never supposed to be around. He just _is_"

Just then, in walks Spike, up from below (It's before dusk and so he came in through the tunnels/basement).

Buffy: "Speak of the…"

Spike: "Really don't think anything's brewing for tonight. I just don't feel it. What's the word from watcherboy?"

Willow: "Cancelled."

Spike: "Right then. Could'a slept in a bit. We really should work out some sort of communication system for this sort of thing."

Buffy: "Like you have lots of other important things to do."

Spike: (defensive) "That's right. If it weren't for the fighting, d'you think I'd choose to spend my Saturday night with you lot?"

Buffy: (sarcastic) "Oh, and we're always thrilled to be in your pleasant company."

Spike: (frowning slightly) "S'pose I'll push off then. Soon as the sun is down. (explaining) Tunnels are full of some stench tonight."

Buffy: "Happy Day, a few more minutes with the peroxide king."

Dawn gives Buffy a nasty look and kicks her under the table.

Spike: (Hopping up on the counter; to Miranda) "So what've ya' got for me then?"

Miranda: (with a smile) "So you _were_ paying attention? I shouldn't have said anything—wasn't sure I still had it (searching through her bag). Took me AGES to remember where it might be and then finding it was another task. (Pulling an envelope out) But in the end, there it was."

She starts to push it across the counter towards him, then stops.

Miranda: (To Spike) "Actually, this requires a bit of an explanation. (Indicating the others in the room.) Should I tell you now?"

Spike: "Now you've got my curiosity up, go ahead."

Miranda: "After the….uh…incident in London, I knew I couldn't go back, especially since I'd already been identified as being 'dead' by someone who recognized me at the morgue. I needed to get back to Beallton to sneak in and pick up a few of my things while my parents were still in London. I managed to make my way there and afterwards I decided to sneak in one last visit to Sarah before I left for good. She was shocked to see me, of course, after hearing just hours before of my death. I didn't explain what happened, just that I was running away and that she musn't tell ANYONE. I also made her promise NOT to make the trip to London in case my parents decided to have the funeral there. In fact I made her promise to avoid London altogether this season. I was afraid…I didn't want…(pause; a nod of understanding from Spike). I thought it best that she not make the trip. She resisted at first, as news of your disappearance had reached her and she somehow thought that she might be able to help find you. In desperation, to keep her from going, I made something up. I said that I'd run into you, accidentally, and that you were packed and on your way to the docks. I made up some reason why you were leaving the country. Don't remember exactly what I told her, but I was quite convincing. Made it clear that you wouldn't be back, ever. She might have believed the truth, but it seemed hurtful to tell her—what good would it do? Anyway, she made me promise that if I ever saw you again, which she deemed likely as we were both going to be living the life of gypsies, I would give you this (indicating the envelope). I nearly threw it away many times, knowing the truth. Something compelled me not to and what do you know, here we are over a hundred years later."

Miranda pushes the envelope to Spike. It's a letter-sized modern manilla envelope. He picks it up, opens it and dumps out the contents: a letter, folded neatly and tied with ribbon and a silver locket. Spike picks up the locket, turning it over. It's rather big and ugly. He opens it and quickly lets out a quiet, knowing laugh. Inside, instead of a picture is a cartoon drawing of a girls' face—she's sticking her tongue out as if an angry little girl.

Dawn: "Can I see?"

Spike passes her the locket and then pulls off the ribbon holding the letter. He's oblivious to the fact that everyone is watching him as he does this. Dawn passes the locket around, as everyone is curious. Spike opens the letter. It's not quite clear what he is feeling. He puts the letter down and pushes it towards Miranda.

Spike: "Read it for me? It's short. Her handwriting was always pathetically illegible."

Miranda: "All right" (Not quite sure why he wants her to read it out loud. Could he actually feel something? Could he feel sadness? She takes the letter and after giving it a quick scan she frowns slightly as she tries to decipher the chicken scratch.) In Sarah's defense, she did only have a few minutes to write…."

(She reads.)

Dearest William,

You insufferable swine (everyone laughs at this; breaks the somber mood). I cannot believe you have left me alone with our mother! You selfish, beady-eyed hamster. I am so upset, I cannot even construct a decent insult. Miranda is obviously lying to me about your whereabouts—(embarrassed frown from Miranda)—I don't believe for a minute that you'd join some band of explorers even if it meant getting you out of this dreadful place. No, I've decided to imagine that you have finally come to your senses and given up on that dreadful Cecily and run off with some beautiful dark-haired gypsy-woman—you always did have a soft spot for brunettes. (Buffy and Willow crack up at this (because of Drusilla); Miranda stops reading for a moment and says in response to the laughter "Did I miss something funny?" They shake their heads.) I hope you'll be very happy and have lots of dark-haired gypsy babies. I, unfortunately, will now have to marry that dreadful Mr. Jones. Which brings me to the locket. Is it not the ugliest locket you have ever seen? Courtesy of Mr. Jones; a birthday present. I will simply tell him that I lost it riding in the woods or some such thing. I can only hope he doesn't choose a replacement. I didn't have a picture of myself to give you, but thought the drawing would be sufficient to remind you of me during your travels and more importantly of how cross a I am with you for leaving me. Oh William, who am I going to talk to now? You and Miranda were the only two clever people in the entire COUNTY and now you're both gone off to have adventures. I suppose that I cannot stay angry with you for long—so please come back to visit if you can. I won't tell mother, I promise. Do not worry about me; Mr. Jones is not a bad man. He is simply dumb as a brick. Mother loves him. I will be fine. Please take care of yourself. I'll be thinking of you.

Your loving sister,

Sarah

Everyone is silent. Miranda folds the letter and hands it back to Spike. He puts it back in the envelope, along with the locket. He folds the envelope carefully so that it will fit in his coat pocket. He's taking it all in.

Spike: (Sincerely, to Miranda) "Thanks. For everything. (beat) So did she marry the brick chap, then?"

Miranda: "Yeah. Kept him waiting another year or so but finally relented. And I think in the end she was quite happy. I'd check in on her every now and again over the years. They had 6 children! Lived to a ripe old age."

Just then Giles walks in the door. Greetings abound.

Giles: "I think I've found something else that will help with the decryption. (to Miranda) Do you have some time now to help me with it?"

Miranda: (A bit disappointed—wanting to continue the conversation) "Yes of course. So you still think something important is in the works?"

Giles: "Most definitely. If I'm right, things might start to get a bit wild this week. Buffy, I don't think you should patrol alone for the next few days. We can take it in turns backing you up."

Buffy: (to Spike) "Think you can put your big Saturday night plans on hold?"

Spike: (distracted) "What? Oh right. Yeah. I've got a few things to take care of first if you don't mind. Be back in a couple of hours."

He leaves. Giles is showing Miranda the scroll he has. Buffy looks at Miranda.

Buffy: "You know it's not really him, right? He's not the William you knew?"

Miranda: (with confidence) "Absolutely. (Buffy looks pleased; Miranda adds) I was never very interested in the old William anyway."

Buffy's not sure how to take that. Decides not to push it.

End Scene


	2. Chapter 2

Scene 4

Buffy's house. Thursday night. The gang is gathered in the kitchen, cleaning up after a group dinner of some sort. Everyone except Giles is there (Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya). Some of them are cleaning up, some are sitting down having coffee. Miranda actually has a laptop out.

Xander: "So I guess the whole thing has been a whopping false alarm, am I right?"

Miranda: (looking down at the screen) "Based on the latest thing Giles gave me, it looks that way."

Xander: "Things have been pretty calm the last couple of nights patrolling, right Buff?"

Buffy: "Yep. I would say 'too calm' but it hasn't been totally quiet. S'pose Saturday won't be the big shoot-em-up afterall."

Xander: "You sound disappointed."

Buffy: "Well, it's not as if I have plans--It IS Valentine's Day and I am currently sans Valentine. Was kinda hopin' to be saving-the-world busy to take my mind off it. Will, you don't have plans, right? Tara's going to be out of town?"

Willow: "Actually, we've got long-distance plans (mutual sexy look between Willow and Tara). It's a witch thing."

Buffy: "Dawn?"

Dawn: "I've got that dance, remember? Who wants to go dress shopping with me tomorrow?"

Anya: "Me! Me! Xander is taking me to a very expensive restaurant on Saturday, aren't you sweetie? The kind of place where they don't even put the prices on the menu. I wonder if any shops around here have DRESSES like that?" (Xander looks a bit nervous about this.)

Xander: "Anything for you, my little-wage earner."

Knock at the kitchen door and in walks Spike.

Buffy: (to Spike) "Ten more minutes and I'll be ready to head out."

He walks in and leans against a wall. He exchanges a quick 'greeting' nod and smile with Miranda, who is still sitting at the table with the computer.

Spike: (Seeing everyone with mugs.) "Isn't anyone going to offer me a cup of tea?"

Xander: "Since when do you drink tea?"

Spike: "It's a bit nippy out there—even vampires can get chilled."

Buffy: "Buy you DON'T want tea now because we're about to head out on patrol, right Spike?"

Spike: "I'd love a cup, thanks very much."

Buffy rolls her eyes.

Dawn: "I'll get it"

Anya: "Don't feel too bad, Buffy. You're probably not the ONLY one in all of Sunnydale without a date for Saturday."

Willow: "Yeah, I'm sure there's probably something going on at the Bronze. You know, for all the people without dates—(catching herself, she adds cheerfully) I mean, swinging single people…(frowning)…that sounds kind of sad, doesn't it? I'll stop talking now."

Spike: "What are you all on about?"

Anya: "Saturday is Valentine's Day and Buffy doesn't have a date and now that there's no apocolypse, she's depressed."

Dawn: "Spike, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?" (glare from Buffy)

Spike: (remembering something). "Hate Valentine's Day. Bloody stupid, made-up holiday. Back me up on this, Miranda, Valentine's Day didn't even EXIST 50 years ago. Complete commercial bullshit."

Miranda: "He's right."

Dawn: "But there was a St. Valentine, right? I think I read about it in school."

Miranda: "Yeah there was. Met him a few times. Right BASTARD, too, he was."

Spike laughs at this. Everyone else is serious, believing her.

Tara: "Really? He was jerk?"

Miranda: (Looking up from her computer; sigh) "Spike, why don't you tell the gang what the appropriate response to my amusing little remark should have been."

Spike: (Still smiling in a somewhat silly voice.) "Why, Miranda, you're not possibly old enough to have known St. Valentine, stop takin' the piss."

Miranda: "Honestly, don't you people know ANYTHING about history?"

Spike: (continuing his rant) "It's just a silly excuse to force people to spend all their money on bloody flowers and presents and candy—and they don't even APPRECIATE it, not to mention (not able to resist himself) it makes people like our little slayer here feel like pathetic losers because they can't get a date."

Buffy throws a roll at him.

Buffy: "DON'T have a date is NOT the same thing as CAN'T get a date; I'm just going to get my coat and then we're LEAVING."

Spike: "Whatever, (still ranting) it's a pathetic excuse for a holiday."

Miranda: (looking up from her computer screen) "So Spike. Would you like to be my date for Valentine's Day?"

Spike: "Yeah, all right." (Absolutely no hesitation.)

Miranda scribbles something on a piece of paper & hands it to him.

Miranda: "Pick me up here at 8:30?"

Spike nods and takes the paper and tucks it in his pocket; Buffy walks in with her coat.

Buffy: "Let's go. (noticing the stunned silence of everyone in the room) What?"

Lots of looks being shot across the room. No one wants to say anything in front of Buffy. Instead people just babble "nothing"; They walk out. Spike his a nice little grin on his face.

Xander: "Uh, what just happened?"

Anya: "Miranda just asked Spike out on a date. Weren't you listening?"

Xander: "Again, what just happened?"

Willow: "You know, it's really not that important to have a date on Valentine's Day, despite what Buffy was implying. You and Buffy could just hang out, rent movies and…uh…complain about guys. That's always fun, right? From what I remember." (sly grin to Tara)

Anya: "And you know how many girls are dumped on Valentine's Day? I could tell you some stories…"

Miranda: (toying with them a bit) "Don't be silly. Why would I want to spend Valentine's Day with Buffy?"

Xander: "Ok, Ok, so you want a date with a guy on Valentine's Day. That's reasonable. We can work with that. There are a TON of strapping young guys in Sunnydale—heck I work with many of them. Seriously, a girl like you could take her pick."

Miranda: (considering) "You're probably right."

Anya: "Oh, Xander, I'm sure she doesn't want to go on a blind date. Surely she wants someone familiar. I'll bet Giles would go out if you asked him. I think he likes you."

Miranda: "Listen, I see what you're all trying to do. The thing is, I want to go out with Spike."

Xander: "I am _so_ not following you."

Just then a cell phone rings—It's Miranda's. While she answers it, looks abound between the gang—non-verbal communication indicating that they'll talk about this later.

Miranda: "Have to rush off now. Tell Giles that I'm sorry I missed him. If he has any questions about what's on the disk, have him call me at home tomorrow. Goodnight. I had a lovely time. Pass along my thanks to Buffy when she gets back."

Miranda puts on her coat and leaves

End Scene.

Scene 5

Magic shop. Friday afternoon, the same week. Anya is at the register; Giles is helping a customer find something. The customer leaves without buying anything and as she leaves, Giles turns the Open/Closed sign around and walks back towards the counter.

Anya: "No luck, huh? I swear I could taste that final sale of the day. What went wrong? She looked eager to buy."

Giles: "We didn't have what she was looking for."

Anya: "A-ha! That is where an experienced salesperson would have convinced her she needed something else. _Now_ the last sale of the day was that smelly guy two hours ago who bought the libido candle (shudder). So disappointing. Who knew retail could be so emotionally draining. I'll just count the money in the register and then I'll be off. I still have to buy a dress for tomorrow."

Giles: "What's tomorrow?"

Anya: "Valentine's Day. Xander is taking me somewhere expensive. Funny, it used to be my busiest day of the year back when I was in the vengeance trade. Now I'm one of the lucky ones who gets pretty things and has a guaranteed date (gets all dreamy eyed; suddenly noticing Giles cleaning his glasses and looking somewhat distant). Oh, but it's really no big deal for someone who…uh…doesn't have plans, I mean Buffy d…" (interrupted by a knock at the door)

Giles: "Do you mind getting that?"

Anya looks mildly annoyed at being asked to leave the money, but at the thought that it might be Xander, goes to the door.

Anya: (a bit disappointed) "It's just Miranda"

Miranda: "Expecting Xander, were you?" (shrug from Anya)

Giles: (looking pleased) "Miranda. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Miranda: "I've got something to show you. An intriguing little piece that just came my way from a supplier friend up in San Francisco who owed me a favor. By the way, did you get that file I left for you last night and were you able to make heads or tails of it?"

Giles: "Yes, yes. A grand miscalculation, after all, I guess. I still think there may be something a bit out of the ordinary going on, but we'll have to dig a little deeper to figure out what. (indicating her bag) Let's have a look at what you've brought."

Miranda: (Pulling something out of her bag that is wrapped carefully in cloth.) "It leans more to the artifact side of old, rather than the antiques that I am used to dealing with. I'm rather hoping you can tell me something about it. (Suddenly thinking of something, she stops unwrapping for a moment and looks up at Giles) Do you mind that I call you Giles like the rest, or would you prefer Rupert? I've been meaning to ask."

Giles: "Oh, right. Uh, whichever you prefer. There's not much in it, I suppose."

Miranda: "I quite prefer Giles—easier to say. Unless you have another nickname?"

Giles: (slightly more serious) "No, not anymore. Not really."

Based on his response, she thinks about asking, but doesn't.

Miranda: "Right then. The chap that gave it to me said he thought it was Mayan or Aztek or something."

She pulls out something about the size and shape of a medium sized vase. It's made of a somewhat opaque stone and is free of markings, except for two symbols etched on the surface of one side. It has a stopper of some kind, like the kind you find that seal modern glass containers full of corrosive acid.

Giles: "It's brilliant. I can't place the material it's made out of. I don't think I've seen anything like it. Let's see if we can get a better look at those etchings."

He takes a piece of paper and a wax pen and rubs it over the surface of the container.

Giles: "I think your friend is right. The symbols are Mayan, or at least very similar. The seal is remarkably constructed for something that old. I wish I knew what the material was—I think I have a book on Mayan symbols somewhere. Let's have a look."

He heads over to the bookshelves and picks one out. After leafing through for a minute, he says:

Giles: "Hm. Doesn't match any of these exactly. The most similar seem to be 'Heat' for the first one and 'Heart' for the other."

Miranda: "What do you think it was used for? The Mayans were one of the first civilizations to try their hand at surgery. Could it have been used in that capacity somehow?"

Anya: (interrupting from the counter) "Human sacrifice. Don't forget human sacrifice."

What?

Anya: "They're also known for the ritualistic human sacrifices. And a fondness for removing hearts—could have something to do with that."

Giles: "Hm. Certainly a nice piece. What do you intend to do with it?"

Miranda: "I don't know. Probably hang onto it for a bit. I think it's lovely. Do you mind if I borrow that book. Perhaps I can find something more about it."

Giles: "Yes, certainly. I have a couple more that may be of use if you'd like (Walks over to the bookshelves. Appears to think of something) Perhaps we could get together to discuss what you've found. Perhaps tomorrow? Over dinner?"

Before Miranda can answer, Anya creates a distraction my pushing a large book off the counter, which makes a very loud thud as it hits the floor.

Anya: "Silly me. I can be SUCH a clutz."

They both look over at Anya who is now picking up the book off the floor; they watch her for a moment and then Giles turns back to Miranda.

Giles: "So..."

Anya throws a glass on the floor.

Giles: "Anya! What has gotten in to you?"

Anya gives Miranda a look; she obviously doesn't want Miranda to tell Giles that she's going out with Spike.

Anya: "Sorry. Uh, counting the money always gets me a bit excited. (to Miranda) You and Buffy all set for that thing tomorrow night?"

Miranda: (Not getting it; gives Anya a puzzled look) "What thing?"

Anya: "You know, that THING. That THING with Buffy? (looks at Giles and whispers) Girl stuff."

Miranda: (Getting it now. Doesn't really want to lie, but doesn't want to hurt G's feelings either so she plays along) "Oh right, the thing. With Buffy. (To Giles) Yeah, uh, s'pose tomorrow night won't work. Perhaps another time. I'll stop by Sunday afternoon."

Giles: (a bit let down, but…) "Certainly."

Miranda: "I should get going. I need to sort through some of my things in storage. Thanks for the books. I'll be sure to give you a full report on Sunday."

She packs up the artifact and the books and heads towards the door.

Giles: "Good night"

End scene

Scene 6

Saturday 9pm. Sidewalk outside a small apartment building. Spike is just finishing a cigarette. He's wearing his leather coat and underneath a nice-ish button down black shirt, untucked and black pants. He drops the cigarette and covers it with his foot. He looks briefly at a small piece of paper and then stuffs it back in is coat. He steps up to the main door and rings the buzzer.

Voice from the intercom: "I'll come down."

Miranda appears in the hallway and steps out the front door. She has a bit of a smirk/half smile on her lips.

Miranda: (not angry) "I was beginning to think I'd been stood up."

Spike: (Looks her over; she looks good. Shrugs.) "Don't have a watch. (beat) Nice coat."

Miranda is wearing a shin length light-blue leather coat.

Miranda: "Thanks. It does the job. So here it is—thought maybe we'd keep it simple and go to a pub, get a few drinks or something and maybe a bite to eat. How does that sound?"

Spike: "No pun intended? (This gets a smile) I know a place, but it's quite a walk from here."

Miranda: "We can take my car"

Spike: "Lead the way."

Next we see them at the pub. They have a table off in a corner. There is an empty plate off to the side (remnants of Miranda's dinner). Miranda is drinking wine. Spike has a bottle of beer. They seem relaxed and are in the middle of an animated conversation.

Spike: "He came right out and said that? In front of your mother? What an idiot."

Miranda: "And not only that, my brother saw him the next day and he completely denied it."

Spike: "He was always a bit of a wanker"

Miranda: (contemplating) "No, Sir Richard was a wanker. Charles was more of a pillock, don't you think?"

Spike: "Oh yeah. If you looked up the definition of pillock, you'd find a picture of Charles along side it. God, is it just me or were people just ridiculously stupid back then?"

Miranda: "And yet we just played along, not saying a word. Well, Sarah always had a word or two to say, but never to anyone's face. She was definitely the queen of insults. That was the worst thing, always having to be polite. I'm surprised we didn't all combust or something, keeping it all in like that."

We get the impression that they've spent the night reminiscing about people they both knew from the past—mostly making fun of everyone and being snarky about past events.

Miranda: "You know you're more like her now that you ever used to be. Sarah, I mean. You've got her sarcastic wit."

Spike: (A bit more serious) "She really did alright, then?"

Miranda: "Yeah. I think so. Never had much, but considering, she was happy."

Spike: "You know, I never thought of her once. Not until you mentioned her the other day. Not once did she cross my mind these 100 years. (A bit guilty? Puzzled that now he has been thinking of her?) Everything changed and the past was over—'least the good things. Pain and anger seemed to carry over, but nothing much else."

Miranda: (leaning in across the table) "When I saw you in London, I knew something had happened. You had a confidence, a fire that I'd never seen before. Silly me, I thought you'd simply managed to get laid. (Intensely curious, leaning forward) What was it like?"

Just then, the music gets a bit louder; starts to become difficult to hear.

Spike: (responding to the loud music) "D'you want to continue this elsewhere?"

Miranda nods. Spike calls for the check. The waiter brings it over. Spike starts to fish in his pockets for money.

Miranda: "Oh, it's Ok. I'll get it. I was the one who invited you out. I think that's the protocol nowadays."

Spike ignores her and takes the bill up to the bar to pay with his money. Comes back, leaves a bill on the table for a tip and hands Miranda her coat. They walk out.

Spike: "So where to?"

Miranda: "My place is full of boxes still. (Suddenly realizing that she has no idea what sort of place he might have) What sort of…uh….do you?…er"

Spike: "My place it is."

Miranda: "Lead the way"

Next we see them driving up to the cemetery.

Spike: "You can leave the car here. It's not much of a walk."

Miranda: "So you actually live in a crypt. Hm. Do you sleep in a coffin, too?"

Spike: "You watch too many movies. You'll see."

They get out of the car and start to walk off.

Miranda: "Hang on a minute. Left something in the car."

Goes back to the car and pulls out a small bag from the back seat.

Spike: "What's that, then?"

Miranda: (coy smile) "It's a surprise"

Spike: "Another mystery package from Miranda—don't quite know what to think about that."

They arrive at his crypt. They go in.

Miranda: (looking around) "I'm impressed. Not exactly a hole in the ground now is it? You do all this yourself?"

Spike: "Yeah. Got a bit of time on my hands lately. Didn't used to be the domestic type, but uh—you've got to make the best of it, I s'pose."

Miranda: "The chip."

Spike shrugs in the affirmative. They sit down on the couch.

Spike: "You want a drink or something?"

Miranda: (suddenly reminded) "Oh, hold that thought. (She puts the bag on the table in front of them. Explaining:) Seems only proper to bring something the first time you're invited to someone's place and you know I'm a proper girl (smirk). So just in case you invited me over, I brought a couple of things. The first is for us both."

She pulls out a bottle of whiskey and puts it on the table. Spike picks it up (looking pleased) and has a look at the label.

Spike: "Girl after my own heart. Single malt, over 60 years old. Must've cost a bloody fortune." (He gets up to get a couple of glasses and then pours two rather deep servings.)

Miranda: "Woulda done if I'd bought it at a shop—100 pounds at least. Luckily, I was married to the owner of the company—I've still got a case of it in storage."

They touch glasses and take a sip.

Spike: (casually) "Split up, then? You 'n the whiskey bloke?"

Miranda: (keeping with the casual tone) "Nah, long dead. He was mortal. They die."

Spike: "By definition."

Miranda: (moment of pain; she hides it well) "Right. (changing the subject) So do you think about killing people all the time?"

Spike: (surprised) "What sort of question is that?"

Miranda: (trying to explain) "I'm just trying to figure out what this whole vampire thing is all about. You'd be surprised how little I've learned about vampires hanging out with Buffy and friends. I mean, you don't seem all that different on the outside and yet everyone is always going on about how vampires aren't like people at all. So I figure that it's got to be internal. You're a vampire, so you're pretty much designed to kill people and now you can't so you don't, but I'm just curious to know if you still think about it."

Spike: (considering it) "First, I'm not terribly surprised (about how little she's learned from the scoobies). (Pause while he thinks a minute) It's really more the biting that sticks in my head—the taste and feel of it. Guess I used to think about killing all the time in the beginning. Then I found out I could kill demons and that took some of the edge off. Now, uh, I don't really think about it much, you know, day to day. No point."

Miranda: (Back to the intensity level back at the pub when they were interrupted.) "So how is it different? What do you feel now that you didn't before?"

Spike: "Honestly don't remember much about before—being human. But after—I felt strong. Free. Liberated. In an instant, everything was clear, focused."

Miranda: (Taking it in; trying to understand) "What do you do for food now? Can you get blood from hospitals or clinics and the like?"

Spike: "Sometimes. A real pain, though, and expensive if you can even find someone who's sellin'. Mostly stick to animal blood—butchers sell it pretty cheap. Tastes a bit off, but it does the job."

Miranda: (Indicating the sword leaning up against the wall on the other side of the room. It's the one from the night they met) "You know you could get a bundle for the sword if you wanted to sell it. 10,000 pounds EASY if you know the right person to take it to."

Spike: "Is that right. Quite a generous gift then. What could possibly have possessed you to give it up so easily. I doubt it was gratitude."

Miranda: "As you've probably guessed, it wasn't actually mine. Who fights with two swords, anyway?"

Spike: "So the sword with the blood on it was yours then."

Miranda: "That's a conversation I'd like to save for another day if that's all right. How about I give you your present now?"

He's curious about the sword, but willing to let it drop; Miranda takes the second item out of the bag and sets it on the table. It's the Mayan container that she showed to Giles. Spike looks at it, not quite sure what to say/do.

Miranda: (realizing his confusion) "Oh, it's what's in it that's important. I'll be taking the container back—it's worth quite a lot. Open it."

Spike looks at it for a minute and figures out the trick to opening it. When he does, it's obvious it was an airtight seal. He brings the container up to his nose and sniffs it. An intrigued smile crosses his face.

Spike: "It's blood."

Miranda: "It is. Seems only fair since you bought my dinner. You'll find that it's hot, even though the container is cold on the outside. That's what's brilliant about it. Apparently it was used by the Mayans for exactly this purpose—to keep blood at body temperature during their goes at primitive surgery."

Spike takes a swig and then closes his eyes in enjoyment.

Spike: "It's human blood. (He's looking at her differently now; trying to figure her out. Where/how? Who IS this woman?) Aren't you just full of surprises."

Miranda: "Not sure if you'll be pleased or disappointed, but I didn't kill anyone if that's what your thinking. I have a very rare blood type. Let's just say there was a time when I needed to keep a supply around for...accidents. Had a doctor friend who would keep an eye out for the right type and save it for me. I'm less…uh…accident prone lately and so thought I could spare a pint."

Spike: "Rare, hm? It does have a slightly different taste—more dense or something. (He finishes it) Cheers for that. Completely unexpected."

Miranda: "So do people taste different?"

Spike: (He seems more energetic now. Not intending to answer the question) "My turn. (Pours another whiskey. Leans back on the couch.) What's your thing, then? When I carried you to Buffy's that night, you were, well, dead. And now here you are. If you're immortal, why the change in animation?"

Miranda: "It's simple, really. My heart stops beating and then somehow restores itself after a time—don't know any more than that." (She notices he's now looking intently at her neck, trying to see her pulse. Didn't he notice before? Doesn't he believe her?) You can feel for it if you want. I won't bite."

He gives her a rather sexy look as he reaches his hand toward her neck. She can feel her heart beat more quickly in anticipation of his touch. As his fingers touch her neck in just the right spot, she jumps.

Miranda: (Laughing nervously. Embarrassed) "Sorry. Sorry. I…uh…forgot that you—your hand would be cold."

Spike smiles. He touches her neck again and feels her pulse for a few seconds before taking his hand away.

Spike: "So warm. I'd almost forgotten. (beat) So what's the cost then?"

Miranda: "What do you mean?"

Spike: "The cost of being immortal—eternal youth. There's always a cost. Vampires can't go out during the day, lose their soul, can't eat garlic—you know things like that. What's yours?"

Miranda: (Considering for just a moment. What's the worst thing?) "We can't have children."

Spike: "Is that all? Gah, that's nothing. Quite a deal you've got, then. (He suddenly notices the look on Miranda's face. Being the perceptive bloke he is, he backtracks and in a softer voice) I guess, uh, that could be quite a cost if you were a certain sort."

Miranda shakes it off, even though it's obvious that she was put off by Spike's reaction. She gets up off the couch and walks over to where the sword is. She lifts it up and starts to look at it more closely.

Miranda: "I never really got a good look at it the other night. It's all right. Not as nice as mine." (She looks up and Spike is standing right in front of her.)

Spike: "Hey, that's my sword you're fondling."

Miranda: (coyly) "I can stop—if you want me to."

He takes the sword out of her hand and sets it down on the floor. She still has the drink in her hand. She brings it to her mouth and takes a sip. He takes the glass from her hand and tosses it across the room. He leans in close. Puts one hand against the wall next to her head. She's now leaning back against the wall. He's looking at her greedily. She actually looks a tiny bit nervous. The intensity level has just gone off the scale.

Spike: (Inches from her face now; speaking in a soft voice) "You're quite proud of yourself, aren't you, for your little gift idea."

Miranda: (smiles at this; a little laugh) "It was rather brilliant, don't you think? It's sort of a thing for me, gifts"

Spike: "Is that right?" (licks his lower lip with a little bite) "'Got my attention."

Miranda: (her heart is racing now) "So, uh, do vampires…" (she's interrupted by…)

Spike: "No more questions. We're done talking."

He leans in for the kiss. As they kiss, he takes his other hand and moves it in behind her head/neck. She lets her hands rest on his chest. They break for a moment. She opens her eyes and looks at him.

Miranda: (whispers) "That was nice"

Spike: "Wasn't really aiming for 'nice'. Let's give it another go."

They both move in this time. A bit more passion from the start, and then building. She's wearing a scoop necked cotton peasant top with a tie at the front (instead of a button) holding the very top together and jeans. After a few minutes, he moves his hand down her neck to the tie and pulls it….this opens the shirt enough so that her bra shows. He moves his hands a down over the top of her bra and across to the side, caressing her chest. She is now unbuttoning the remaining buttons of his shirt as she slips her hands underneath to feel his bare skin. Things are really heating up—kissing becoming more desperate. She's breathing heavily. He pulls away for a second and lifts her up slightly against the wall, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him as he presses himself hard against her. She reacts to this by saying:

Miranda: "Well, that answers another question I had about vampires."

Spike smiles and goes in for another kiss. He starts to pull her shirt up over her head when suddenly the door to his crypt is thrown open. They are not immediately in view of the door. He leans his head against the wall next to Miranda's head in frustration. They hear from around the corner:

Buffy: "Spike?"

Spike: (under his breath) "Bloody hell. I really need to find a way to Buffy-proof that door."

Spike sets Miranda down.

Miranda: (flustered/out-of-breath) "You don't have a lock?"

Spike: "Locks' not exactly slayer-proof. Need something with a bit more staying power than that."

Spike walks quickly to the door, trying to intercept Buffy to give Miranda a minute. His shirt is still unbuttoned.

Spike: (As he reaches Buffy at the door and prevents her from coming too far in) "Yeah, kinda busy now, Slayer. What d'you want?"

Buffy: "We need your help. All hell's breaking loose tonight—pun intended. Giles thinks we need all the hands we can find to get it under control. (She is curiously peeking in, mainly because he seems to be hiding something.) What, do you have a date in there or something?"

She says this jokingly, not really thinking it's likely—he's in love with HER, right? The others never told her about the other night when Miranda asked Spike out. They didn't think to mention it to her tonight either because SURELY the date would be over by now—it's 1am!

Spike: (A bit torn. Thinking for a second) "….hm not really interested in a fight tonight. I'm sure you lot can handle it."

Buffy seems a bit taken aback by this. When was the last time he didn't want to come along? Just as she's about to respond, Miranda walks casually out from around the corner. She's pulled her shirt down, but has forgotten to re-tie the top, so her bra is showing a bit.

Miranda: "Sounds serious."

Buffy: (Honest surprise; not making the connection at first) "Miranda! We were looking for you. What are you doing...(She then notices Spikes open shirt; Miranda's open shirt. Yes, our little slayer figures it out.)...here...oh."

Just then, the others show up at the door to find out what's taking so long. Anya and Xander come in first.

Xander: "Not to rush the negotiations here, but according to Giles, we really need to get going. (Noticing Miranda) Oh, hey Miranda. Didn't know you were coming along."

He's oblivious as usual. Anya is trying to catch Miranda's eye to signal her that her blouse is untied. Amusing exaggerated eye movements follow. Miranda finally gets it and starts tying it up. Spike, now resigned, is buttoning up his shirt. Just then Giles comes to the door and peeks his head in.

Giles: "Don't forget to grab some more weapons, if he's got some in there. (Noticing Miranda) Miranda. (He looks perplexed for a moment, then quickly assesses the situation. He is a bit deflated, but recovers to deal with the current crisis) Glad we found you. (to Buffy et al) Let's not take much time with this. We really need to get up there." (He goes to wait outside for them)

Everyone stands there for a minute in an awkward pause. M&S exchange a glance—the date's over.

Spike: (to Buffy) "What sort of weapons do you need? I'll grab a few things" (He starts rummaging for weapons and puts his coat on.)

Miranda finds her coat and puts it on.

Miranda: (to Buffy) "I'd like to tag along if that's all right. I've got a bit of...energy to work off and it sounds like you could use an extra pair of hands."

Buffy: "I don't know. You've never been out on patrol with us and if things are as bad as we think, it could get pretty ugly out there."

Miranda: (shrugging) "I'm immortal—what's the worst that could happen?"

Can't argue with that. They head outside to join the others. They start walking, discussing the situation along the way.

Spike: "So what's the deal?"

Author's note: no time to come up with a good set-up for this, so the following may sound kind of hokey with few details :)

Giles: "We've got vampires and X (insert plausible name)-demons who appear to be working for or with a third kind of demon—a leader—who is coordinating their efforts. They are performing a ritual of some sort tonight (insert really scary consequences if they succeed) up at an abandoned factory north of town. They've been out in bands tonight gathering human victims who are to be a part of the ritual."

Miranda: "What do you know about this 'leader' fellow?"

Giles: "Next to nothing, I'm afraid. We've come across him before, stirring up trouble now and again, but we've never found out much about him. In fact, we stopped looking into it because Buffy thought she had killed him in their last fight and then he somehow re-appeared."

They continue walking on. Buffy and Giles in front, Spike picking up the rear. They're a bit spread out for some reason that IS NOT plot driven. Ahem.

Miranda: (to Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya who are nearest her) "Someone want to give me a primer on how to fight these things?"

Willow: "Oh right. I keep forgetting that you haven't done this before. Ok for the vampires, it's easy. You've mainly got the stake-to-the-heart approach, which, I guess, you've experienced first hand. Here take one (She hands Miranda a stake. Miranda looks at it rather skeptically). You can also use holy water, but I don't think that's really the way to go in this situation. Oh, and there's fire if you prefer that. Again, not quite as fast as the 'stake' approach (pleased with herself) Look at me, I'm all 'old handy'. As for the other demons, we should probably leave those to Buffy—for the one-on-one stuff. Do you feel all primed now?"

Miranda: "I guess. Never done much fighting with wood before, (still looking skeptically at the stake) but I'll give it a go."

Just then they get jumped by a gang of vamps. Everyone is fighting. Xander, Willow and Anya are (sort of amusingly) taking on a couple of vamps (kind of like when they went on patrol with Riley). Miranda is sort of on the outside of the scuffle, watching; awkwardly trying to make her way in with the stake. Xander dusts one, but then quickly gets knocked down by the other. Miranda is still trying to work her way in, looking increasingly frustrated by her inability to 'get in the groove' of it so to speak. Spike is looking on from behind, but is tied up taking care of a couple of demons. The second vamp has Xander on the ground and the others are scattered too far away to do anything. Miranda gets an "oh, fuck it" look on her face—she tosses the stake away, kicks the vamp hard in the side (moving him away from Xander) and in one smooth motion, reaches behind her head into her coat, pulls out her sword and lops the head off the vamp (dust). Just then, everything calms down and they come together again.

Willow: (impressed) "Or you can just do...THAT"

Xander: "That works. Thanks."

Miranda: (to Willow) "You failed to mention that chopping off their heads was an option. I'm quite relieved to find that out. Beheading is kind of a speciality of mine."

Willow: (Ignoring the weirdness of the actual meaning of that last sentence) "Don't you mean specialty?"

Miranda: "No, I'm quite sure speciality is the correct term."

Willow: "Giles, is beheading a speciaLITY or a speciaLTY?"

Giles: "What? What are you talking about?"

Spike: (to Miranda) "Did you have that sword in your coat the whole time?"

Miranda: "Didn't you think it was a bit on the heavy side for a leather coat? Yes, of course it's been there."

They resume walking. Miranda catches up with Buffy. Asks her a few more questions about what they are up against and details of the 'leader'. After a bit, she appears to think of something.

Miranda: "The first time you fought him. How did it end?"

Buffy: "I basically shoved a large iron bar through his chest and pushed him off a cliff. You'd THINK that would do it."

Miranda: "And what do they call him?"

Buffy: "Uh, something like V'tishi or V'torshi. Giles could probably pronounce it better."

Miranda stops dead.

Miranda: (to herself) "Of course, why didn't I see it before? So that's where you've been hiding."

Buffy: "What is it?"

The others catch up.

Miranda: (suddenly serious and commanding) "Your 'leader' is an Immortal. Like me. Name of Victor Sheaugh. Hasn't been seen for years."

Xander: "But I thought Immortals were...GOOD...you know, as in NOT evil?"

Miranda: "Oh no. Not necessarily. We range the spectrum of human sanity. There are some real sick bastards out there and he's one of 'em. This will have to be my fight."

Buffy: "But if he's immortal, how can you kill him?"

Miranda: "Oh, didn't I mention that? Yeah, we kill each other—can kill each other. The big loop-hole in the immortality thing. What can you tell me about the surroundings of this factory?"

Giles: "It's off on it's own. There's a river on one side, and I think mostly farm land surrounding it."

Miranda: "What about graveyards, churches, anything that could be considered holy ground?"

Xander: "This is Sunnydale; there's a graveyard about every mile. I think there is a small one the west side."

Willow: "And I think there is an Indian burial ground on the other side. Does that count?"

Miranda: "It does. Immortals can't fight on consecrated ground so we must prevent him from getting to any of those places before I can get to him."

Giles: "Can't fight? By what mechanism?"

Miranda: (With every passing moment, she is getting more focused) "There are simply rules we have to follow. No time to explain now. And he'll be aware of my presence before we can get into the building. We can sense others of our kind—I'd say from around 20 meters, so there is no real possibility of surprise for me at least. Before I can officially challenge him, he will probably try to hide behind his minions or escape to the holy ground."

Buffy: "Giles, why don't you take Willow and Tara around the west side of the factory in case he tries to come out that way. Xander and Anya, you go around to the other side and block his path there. Spike, you and I will go in the front door and take on the foot soldiers. Anything else we should know?"

Miranda: "Once we start fighting, no one can interfere no matter what happens. Another rule."

Buffy: "Everyone set? Let's go"

Miranda: "Hang on a minute (looking down at he feet) These are SO not the right shoes for this."

Buffy: "Shoes again? You seem awfully fixated on shoes for someone about to enter mortal combat."

Miranda: "Immortal combat, to be precise. And shoes are very important. Make ALL the difference—it's all about attitude. (spying Willow's platform boots) "Mind if we switch? It'll just take a second."

Everyone looks at each other, exchanging 'is she crazy' looks? They indulge her because she's about to take on the baddie, but...? After the shoe swap, they head off. Jumping ahead, Buffy and Spike make an entrance and start to kick some serious demon ass. Miranda is sneaking around the edge trying to locate Victor. She senses him (meaning he senses her too) "here we go" and heads in that direction. She finds him and manages to corner him somewhat (his exits are blocked).

Victor: (Smarmy & condescending) "Why if it isn't Miranda, the little angel. What a surprise. Tell me, how's Cal these days?"

Miranda: "You're a bit-out-of-the-loop, Victor. Lost track of time? Cal's been dead almost 20 years."

Victor: "Aw, did my friends in LA finally bring you to your senses by getting rid of that silly mortal husband of yours?"

Miranda: "Sorry to disappoint you—natural causes."

(She pulls her sword out and tosses her coat aside.)

Victor: "You don't actually mean to fight me, do you? So very disappointing. I'm sure we could come to some kind of arrangement. No need to risk your life."

Miranda: "I wouldn't be too worried about MY life. Draw your sword."

He looks annoyed and perhaps a bit frightened. He scans the room looking for a way out. Seeing that he's trapped, he draws his sword. They start fighting—a bit slow at first. Soon they are going all out. She's faster and more skilled in her movements. He's obviously a bit stronger, but has trouble connecting with her on his terms. Soon everyone stops fighting to watch the two Immortals do battle. It's quite a sight. Occasionally one of the demons makes a motion to take out Miranda, but either Spike or Buffy takes them out first. Quickly, Miranda gets the upper hand and knocks the sword from Victor's hand.

Miranda: "Oh, that was too easy! I'm just getting warmed up. Here we go, strike one."

She walks over to the dropped sword and kicks it back to him.

Buffy: (shocked) "What's she doing?"

Spike: "Having a bit o' fun, looks like" (He smiles.)

Victor picks of the sword and they resume fighting. More acrobatics and good swordplay. Miranda does look like she's enjoying it. She never loses the upper hand. Again, she's able to make him drop his sword.

Miranda: "Come on! I've barely gotten a work-out here. Once more, shall we?"

She kicks back his sword again. They resume fighting. This time, when he gets in close, he pulls a knife out with his left hand and jams it in her side. She kicks him off, but is obviously wounded.

Miranda: "That wasn't very nice. Think it may be time to finish it."

They resume fighting but now it isn't so one-sided. Miranda is affected by her wound, which is bleeding rather profusely. She stops playing around and is now giving it all she has. The fighting seems to go on and on. Buffy and Spike exchange a worried look. Now the others have returned and are watching as well. Finally, in one brilliant move, Miranda manages to disable his sword and kick him hard in the side with her he leg. He falls to his hands and knees and she quickly steps on his sword and with a breathy "strike three", she swings her sword and takes his head off. She staggers back, out of breath and in pain and practically falls to the ground. They all rush up to her, but a few demons move in to fight. She sits on the floor, exhausted, and lets the scoobies take them out. Spike is the first to get to her.

Spike: "That was bloody brilliant! Are you all right?"

Miranda moves her hand down to her side where the blood is. Is almost too breathless/out–of-it to speak.

Miranda: (shaking her head) "So out of shape! Windows. They should move away from the windows."

Spike: "What?"

Just then, something that looks like electricity begins to fill the room. It surrounds Victor's body and lifts it up in the air. Miranda staggers to her feet. A moment later, what looks like a lightening bolt comes together and strikes Miranda—all the windows in the building shatter. When it's over, Miranda drops back down to the floor.

Buffy: "What was that?"

Miranda: "Long story. Always happens when an Immortal dies."

They help her to her feet. She's still out of breath, but looks more perky.

Spike: "How's your side? (Indicating the place where all the blood is on her clothes.)

Miranda lifts up the side of her shirt and reveals that the wound is completely healed.

Buffy: "And here's me thinking I heal fast."

They all start making their way towards the exit.

Spike: (whispering to Miranda) "So, uh, there's a couple more hours before daylight. Want to...finish our date? " (He's been VERY turned on by this turn of events.)

Miranda just smiles and shakes her head.

Miranda: (to the others) "Could someone give me a lift home? I need to rest a bit."

End Scene


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Quick warning that this chapter contains fairly strong sexual content. I tried to keep it within the 'T' rating, but be warned. And let me know if you think I crossed the line...

Scene 7

Sunday evening. Outside Giles' apartment. Miranda is standing outside the door. She hesitates for a moment and then knocks. In a few seconds, the door opens. Upon seeing who it is, Giles stiffens a bit, not as pleased to see her as he has been up to now.

Giles: (polite) "Miranda. What a surprise."

Miranda: "I forgot you closed the magic shop early on Sunday's—didn't get up until 3 o'clock, so thought I would try you at home. (Detecting his lack of enthusiasm) I hope you don't mind."

Giles: (Referring to their previous plans to meet regarding the artifact) "You needn't have bothered to come all this way. The books I lent you are not exactly in high-demand. You can keep them as long as you like."

Miranda: "Oh, I didn't even think to bring the books. Can I come in for a minute?"

Giles: (Looking a bit confused) "Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry."

She comes in. She doesn't have anything with her except a small purse. He motions for her to sit on the couch. She does and he sits in a chair across.

Giles: "Can I get you a drink? Perhaps a spot of whiskey. I'm having one."

Miranda: "Thanks. That would be lovely."

He gets up and pours them a drink and then sits back down. There is a moment of silence. He looks tired.

Giles: "What you did for us last night—I can't thank you enough. Taking a risk like that to help...well, it meant a lot."

Miranda: (She smiles in acknowledgement) "Speaking of last night, I just wanted to say I'm sorry that I lied—about my plans. It's just..." (He prevents her from continuing.)

Giles: "There's no need to say anything. Really. It was clear that you and Anya simply wanted to spare my feelings—(awkward smile) quite the conspiracy."

Miranda: "No. It was wrong, despite the intentions."

Giles takes a sip of his whiskey. A minute of silence. He's debating whether to say something more. Oh, he can't stop himself.

Giles: "But Spike? What could've possibly..." (_She_ stops him this time)

Miranda: "Did I tell you that I was married once? (Although this is a bit of a non sequitur, something in the tone of her voice tells him to simply listen. She pulls out her cross pendant) This stone—in the center of the cross—It's the stone of my engagement ring. We were married 39 years. He was mortal—like you. When he was 63, he was diagnosed with cancer. We fought the fight for three years—three years in and out of hospitals, in and out of remission. It was hopeless and everyone knew it, but no one ever said. You know what took me the most by surprise? Everyone always says, "at least you had time to prepare—to get used to the idea of death" as if somehow, having those three years would make it easier. Sounds logical, too. Surely there is some truth in it. You get used to the house being empty. You get used to dining alone. You may even get used to the idea of it—that it will be over soon and that it will be a blessing of sorts. You convince yourself that you have prepared yourself—you are ready. But you know what happens? The instant you witness their last breath—the last beat of their heart—It may as well have been a lightening bolt, or a knife, or a gunshot. It makes no difference. In the hospital that day, having thought I was ready, honestly believing that death would be a relief for us both, I was struck by an impossible grief when I felt him leave me. Took me more than a decade to awaken from that pain. I will not...I cannot...do anything that might lead me down that path again. I'm simply not strong enough."

After listening intently, it's obvious that Giles understands her meaning.

Giles: "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. That must have been dreadful. If you don't mind my asking, why is it that you don't...er...associate more with your own kind?"

Miranda: (fair question) "What I did last night—killing that Immortal. It wasn't entirely selfless. I—We—get something when we kill each other. Something akin to energy, power. It's enough to provide substantial incentive for some. Simply put, I have trouble with the idea of getting too close to someone who has a vested interest in killing me."

Giles: (a small laugh) "Yes, I could see how that could put a damper on any relationship."

Miranda: (touching his hand, tenderly) "Are we OK? I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us."

Giles: "We're OK…(pause, quick laugh) listen to us, we sound like a couple of Americans—I'm OK, you're OK."

Miranda: "Been in the States too long, I suspect. Can't help pick up few things. (Getting up from the couch) I should be going."

(She puts her glass down and starts walking to the door. He follows her. As they reach the door.)

Giles: "There is one more thing. (She turns to face him) Spike?"

Miranda: (light-heartedly) "Lets not get into that right now. It was just a date."

She turns and walks out the door, smiling, "good night". He closes the door behind her. He walks over where he set down his drink and picks it up.

Giles: (to himself) "A date. With Spike?" (Shakes his head in disbelief.)

End Scene.

Scene 8

The Bronze (or somewhere where there are pool tables). Sunday, very late. Spike is playing pool with some guy. The bar is fairly busy. There is a line of quarters on the table, indicating others who want to play the winner of the game. It's not clear who is winning; they may have just started. Just as Spike is about to make a shot, a $100 bill is thrown over the quarters.

Miranda: "I'll take winners." (Spike looks up briefly with just a flicker of a smile before he takes a shot and sinks the ball.)

A really big guy holding a pool cue steps up to the table.

Big guy: "Sorry, lady, I've already got the winner of this game. I'd be happy to, uh, (looking her up and down)..._take_ you afterwards if you want."

Miranda: "Oh, silly me, I didn't realize those were your quarters on the table." (Not being serious; contemplating kicking his ass.)

Spike: "What quarters would those be? (Indicating the table, which no longer has anything but the $100 bill on it) Sorry, friend. I think the lady's got the next game."

Spike has a 'don't mess with me' look on his face and so the guy doesn't argue and walks away frustrated.

Miranda: (to Spike) "So, uh, you any good at this game? I'm kind of betting on you to win."

Spike: (He gives her a half shrug.) "Not bad."

She goes to the bar and gets herself a drink. By the time she returns, Spike has nearly cleared the table. She sits on a stool near the table. She's wearing a short skirt and as she crosses her legs, we see they are directly in Spike's line of view as he goes to sink the eight ball. He misses, a bit distracted. Luckily, the guy he's playing is pretty bad and he gets another chance after a couple of balls. This time, he sinks it and now it's time for Miranda to play.

Spike: (handing her a cue) "I guess you're up."

Miranda: "Right. Did I mention that I'm actually awful at billiards?"

They play. She's not AWFUL, but not particularly good. Spike misses some easy shots to keep the game going. They talk as they play.

Spike: "So, you all rested up after last night?"

Miranda: "Yeah, slept most of the day away and now I'm as good as new."

Spike: "Do you always heal that fast?"

Miranda: "Not always." (Not particularly wanting to say more right now.)

Spike: "You're all right with a sword. (beat) More than all right—bloody brilliant." (True admiration in his voice.)

Miranda: (She's obviously pleased with his complement. Even after what he said last night, she wasn't sure what his reaction would be) "So it didn't, uh, put you off? All that fighting business? Most men turn and walk the other way quickly after seeing something like that. (almost to herself) I suppose things must be a bit different in this town, with Buffy and all. Strange place."

Spike: "S'pose I'm not most men. You like it, then—the fighting?"

Miranda: (She first denies it with body language, as if to say 'don't be silly') "No, not really—It's simply necessary—actually looking to put all that behind me a bit and focus on other things. (Not very convincing. She pauses for a moment. Perhaps thinking about who she is talking to. Maybe she can be a bit more honest with him) Although, there is something truly thrilling about fighting someone you know could kill you—you know, permanently." (Her eyes light up a bit as she says this.)

Spike: "I know exactly what you mean."

They finish their game and go up to the bar to order more drinks. The bartender brings them. They each take a sip. A brief moment of silence, then...

Miranda: "So, you want to get out of here?"

Spike: "Yeah."

They both leave their full drinks at the bar along with Miranda's $100 bill and head for the door.

Miranda: "I've tidied up a bit if you'd like to come to my place."

Skip ahead to the door of Miranda's apartment. All sorts of chemistry going on, but no actual contact yet. Miranda unlocks the door and walks in, leaving it open behind her. She stops once she turns on the lights and gets in a few steps, turning back to the door.

Spike: (Looking EXTREMELY sexy in the doorway) "You have to invite me in."

Miranda: "Really? (honestly surprised) You took the piss out of me last night for watching too many movies, but if I'd had to guess what was bollocks, I would have guessed the inviting in thing. So what happens if you try?"

Spike obliges her by trying to put his hand through the door; It's blocked my an invisible force.

Miranda: (looking closely) "Fantastic. So if I invite you in now, will you always be able to come in?"

Spike smiles and gives a little eye-brow flick.

Miranda: "Come in, then."

He walks in and looks around. It's all white walls and plain, nondescript furniture.

Spike: "Not exactly homey, is it?"

Miranda: "I'm not really planning on unpacking. This place is only temporary until I find something more to my liking."

Spike: "So that night, when Buffy staked you. You'd been fighting—You'd won?"

Miranda: (admitting smile) "Being new to town, I had to take care of some...business. I'd actually been after Victor but found another. He wanted to fight, so..."

Spike: "Not exactly a friendly lot, then, your fellow Immortals?"

Miranda: "They don't all want to fight. It's rather complicated. Can we talk about this later? (She gives him a 'come hither' look. He walks over nearer to where she's standing.)

Spike: "I could be persuaded to wait" (He touches her hair with his hand.)

Miranda: "So, uh, is this the way it used to be? Lure an unsuspecting girl away from her mates and then..."

Spike: (mockingly irritated) "Not this again. I don't, I mean can't, DO that any more, I don't see why..."

Miranda: "I'm just curious. You know—about what you used to do." (coy smile)

Spike: (getting it) "Uh, yeah, well some vamps work like that, but it was never my style. I was always more of a get-down-to-business type. No messing around."

Miranda: "Well that's rather disappointing. I guess I'd always liked to think that the girls got a little something before..."

Spike: (laughing a bit) "Uh, yeah, well I had a girlfriend for most of it—would have been none too pleased if I'd, uh, played with my food...at least in that way."

She files this bit of information away for future reference—he had a girlfriend—very interesting.

Miranda: "So you haven't, uh, kissed many human girls, then?"

Spike: "Not too many." (At this, he leans in for a kiss. They kiss for a second and then he thinks of something and stops) "Although, I did kiss Buffy once a while back."

Miranda: "REALLY?"

Spike: "'course I hated her then. It was a spell. Blocked it from my memory."

Miranda: "Good."

They start kissing again.

Spike: "I think we should start where we left off, don't you?"

He moves her back against the nearest wall. Things heat up very fast. They've both been rather turned on throughout their entire conversation. Spike is even more into it tonight. Everything he learns about her, he finds more exciting. He unbuttons her top effortlessly and moves his hands across her chest. He kisses her neck and kisses downward until he reaches her bra, carefully avoiding her cross pendent. He kisses her breast through her bra, nibbling in the spot where her nipple is. She moans as he pulls the bra down just enough to expose her erect nipple and puts his mouth on it. She pulls his face up to hers and kisses him passionately. She reaches around his waist and pulls his shirt off over his head. He moves his hand up her bare leg, reaching under her skirt to the outside of her upper thigh; one of her hands is on his bare chest, the other behind his neck. She breaks for a moment, pulling away just enough to speak.

Miranda: (she's breathing heavily) "You know, I find this not breathing thing of yours a bit disconcerting. I mean, how do I know if you're having a good time?"

With a very naughty look, he takes one of her hands and moves it downward to the front of his pants.

Miranda: "Oh, well, in that case, breathing is entirely superfluous."

More kissings.

Spike: (pulling away to speak) "Fancy a shag, then?" (Miranda nods) "Floor or bed?"

Miranda: (considering) "Bed—second door on the left."

Spike lifts her up. She's straddling him. He carries her into the bedroom a bit clumsily (bumping into things), as they are kissing the entire time. They get to the bed and are both kneeling facing each other, kissing. He moves his hand down to take off her bra (front close), when he accidentally brushes her pendant—a quick wince as he pulls his hand away.

Spike: "You mind taking at off? S'puttin' a bit of a damper on things."

She's a bit surprised by this (still not quite getting the whole vampire thing), but takes it off and sets it on the bedside table. He's now moved to be on top of her. He quickly undoes the clasp and grabs to remove her bra. He looks at it briefly and tosses it to the side.

Spike: "No padding, eh? Hmmm."

He takes her breasts in his hands. She lets out a little gasp (his hands are cold). She rolls him over so that she's on top and kisses his neck and moves her hands down his chest, pausing briefly at his pecs. He rolls her back over and straddles her. He sits up a minute and looks at her, laying there. He smiles and reaches under her to find the zipper of her skirt. He pulls it off. She reaches for his belt and undoes his pants as he leans down and kisses her again. He kisses down her stomach, then as he reaches her waist, takes his hands to either side of her panties and pulls them down all the way and tosses them to the side.

Spike: "Never been much for undergarments myself." (He pulls his pants off. They're both naked now. She climbs under the sheet and he follows, moving his hands over her naked body. She reaches her hands around his back. He moves his hands lower, between her legs. You can tell when he gets there because she lets out a small moan.

Spike: "I think you're ready"

And with that he positions his body between her legs and slowly pushes his long, hard length inside her—a choked groan escapes his lips from the shock of the heat within.

She cringes a bit and digs her nails into his back.

Spike: (breathless) "You all right?"

Miranda: "Yeah. It's just been a long time."

Spike: "God, you're so warm...inside...hot...almost burning...so good." More slow thrusting then building, getting a bit faster. "Don't know as I can last much longer, luv. So good...different...incredible."

She's relaxing a bit now, moving with him.

Miranda: (breathless) "It's all right. Don't wait for me."

A few more minutes of this and it's too much for him. He's overwhelmed and lets go with a final forceful thrust and deep groan as he comes. He collapses on top of her and kisses her face and lips, moving her disheveled hair out of her face. They lay like that for a few minutes before he rolls away to the side. He's on his back and she's on her side leaning on her elbow looking at him, smiling.

Miranda: "I think we deserve a drink for that. Let's have a night-cap, shall we?"

Spike: "Isn't that a bit out of order. Wasn't I supposed to get you drunk first?"

She gets up to get the drinks and grabs a silk robe from a chair next to the bed.

Miranda: "That only works for silly, mortal girls." (She comes back with the drinks and sits back against the headboard of the bed.)

Spike: (a bit disappointed/worried) "Not so keen on the temperature, then? Seemed a bit one-sided."

Miranda: "Oh no. I, uh...it's just...(embarrassed)...like a said, it's been a very long while. And, er, it's a bit different for me—think maybe because I was a virgin—you know—back then when it...er...happened. I just need to get my sea legs back, so to speak. Next time will be better."

Spike: "Next time?"

Miranda: (She smiles and gives him a look) "I'm not much for one-night stands."

Spike: "Understandably"

The following conversation is meant to be very playful in tone.

Miranda: (Thinking of something as she looks at him) "You know I was going to let you kiss me that night in London—maybe more."

Spike: (disbelieving) "That's bollocks. You never even gave me the time of day when my sister wasn't around. (lighting up a cigarette, he points it at her) You were snob."

Miranda: (mock incredulous) "I was not a snob. I was socially aware, is all. And that's not the point. I was unchaperoned, at night—I followed you into the alley, didn't I? It was my little rebellion."

Spike: (still not believing her) "How's that then?"

Miranda: "It all sounds rather clichéd now, but seemed sensible at the time. I was so angry at being forced to marry that dreadful Lord 'stuffed-shirt' simply because he was rich and had a title, that I was determined to do SOMETHING in rebellion. I couldn't do anything overt, of course—nothing to risk the wrath of my father. But some things were in my power, so I got the idea..."

Spike: (guessing) "To slum it by fooling around with the likes o' me? How flattering."

Miranda: "Ironically, I remember thinking that you were a rather safe choice. It's not as if you were a hoodlum or anything at the time."

Spike: "Again with the flattery. (believing her now) You little SLUT. Probably would've let me see your ankles, too."

She takes an ice cube from her drink and throws it at him.

Miranda: "I'm just saying—funny how things work out."

The phone rings. Miranda looks perplexed (who would be calling this late?). She answers it and as she talks, starts walking and leaves the room (it's a cordless phone). She appears mildly annoyed. Once she comes back into the bedroom, Spike is putting on his clothes.

Spike: (looking at the window) "It'll be daylight soon, I should push off." (He grabs his things and walks toward the door and says, casually) "So will I see you tomorrow, then?"

Miranda: "Maybe."

Spike: (shaking his head) "You know, you've got that backwards as well. You play hard-to-get _before_ the shagging. You're really out of practice with this whole dating thing, aren't you?"

Miranda: (amused) "I've got to take care of some business tomorrow—that's what the phone call was about. Don't know what time I'll be back."

Spike: "Well then, I guess I'll see you when I see you."

At this, she walks up to him and kisses him. After, they look at each other for a moment before he turns and leaves. Sigh.

End Scene.

Scene 9

Outside the Bronze. The following tuesday night, very late (3am+). Miranda pulls at the entrance door. It's locked. She looks frustrated.

Miranda: "I thought pubs were open all night in this country." (She walks away annoyed. We see her walking along the sidewalk, frowning as she tries to remember something. Next we see her walk past the magic shop and peer in the window. Not seeing anything, she walks back in the direction of her apartment. Mumbles to herself in frustration "S'what I get for picking a guy who doesn't own a phone." She appears to have given up and is slowly making her way back to her apartment building. About a block away, she spies a small flicker of a light (from a lighter) coming from an alley. She looks more closely and sure enough, it's Spike lighting a cigarette.)

Miranda: (walking towards him) "Spare a light?"

He's pleased to see her, but tries to hide it and plays it cool. Perhaps mildly annoyed/put off by the fact that it's been a couple of days. As she approaches, he flicks his lighter on, offering her a light.

Miranda: "Actually, I don't really want a fag right now. Just meant it as a bit of an ice breaker." (He closes the lighter and puts it in his pocket.)

Spike: (Still being cool, trying to explain why he's there) "You know there's a demon bar 'bout a block from here. It's open late."

Miranda: (Following his lead of 'coolness', not wanting to come off to eager) "Yeah, I was planning on having a peek in at the Bronze, but it was closed. I just got back into town—one disaster after another I had to deal with up in San Francisco."

Spike: "You on your way somewhere?"

Miranda: "No, just going back. You can tag along if you like."

He shrugs and walks with her toward her apartment building.

Spike: "Out kinda late, aren't you. Didn't figure you for an night owl."

Miranda: "I told you I just got back. Anyway, I was hoping to bump into you. I would have stopped by your place, but wasn't sure I could remember the way. I'm terrible with directions."

Spike: (He's quite pleased with this) "Remind me to draw you a map. I might have been on my way to pay you a visit. I do seem to remember something about a 'next time'."

They've now reached the entrance of her apartment building.

Miranda: (she smiles.) "Sounds vaguely familiar."

They're standing facing each other at the entrance.

Spike: "So what now?"

Miranda: (She glances at the building) "We try to make it inside the door."

At this, they practically lunge at each other, greedily kissing. She fumbles for her keys, as he rubs his hands over her. She manages to open the outside door and as soon as they're inside, he pushes her against the hallway door. Miranda: "No, inside MY door." They make their way down the hall. She unlocks the door, they stumble inside. The minute the door closes behind them, they're on the floor...

(AN: Edited to stay within the rating.)

After a quick shag...

Spike: "Oh god, I've been thinking about that since...uh...since, well, I left the other night."

Miranda: "I practically broke the sound barrier driving back. Don't know what I would've done if I hadn't stumbled across you like that."

Spike: "Now that the edge's off, I think it's time to have a look at those too-long neglected bits of yours." (Very naughty smile as he rolls back over towards her and pulls up her shirt to reveal her stomach, which he kisses softly. He moves downward and then pulls her thong down the rest of the way. He moves his head in between her legs, pushing her thighs further apart with is hands...(AN: more editing)

Spike: "Not so much 'sea legs'...just needed a bit of coaxing, is all."

He closes her legs and slides up next to her, lifting his head on his elbow, looking at her. She's still on her back, breathing hard.

Miranda: "well...uh...I...uh...um...Used to be able to talk." (She laughs, obviously pleased.) "Minute, please."

Spike: "I'll have to add it to the overtime clock."

Miranda: "Oh, rest assured, I'll be ready for overtime. (After a minute, she turns her head towards him.) "Done that before, then have you?"

Spike: "I am almost 130. I've picked up a few things."

They both assemble/clothe themselves and sit up. They have a 'what next?' look about them.

Miranda: "So, uh, assuming you're not in a hurry to rush off, you want to help me move a few things?"

Spike: "What things?"

Miranda: "When I said I'd just got back, I meant just got back—I left a moving van full of stuff parked out back behind the shop I'm leasing. The place I was storing it in San Francisco had a bit of a flood and I had to load up what I could salvage on the spot. Some of it's rather valuable, so I was planning on unloading tonight. So if you wanted to..."

Spike: "I don't mind. What sort of shop?"

Miranda: "Antiques"

Spike: "Should've guessed."

Author's note: I'm being a bit lazy here. Basically, they just head off to the truck. Her shop is just a couple of doors down from the Magic shop. It takes a couple of hours to unload it. She's rather impressed with his strength. She has a lot of cool things/He comments on some of her weaponry. I simply see them having a bit of fun/banter as they work. She tells him a bit about her business. The fact that many Immortals have antique shops and that it is rather cut-throat in that they often steal from each other and compete for things in a kinda/sorta light-hearted way. He mentions that he's seen some stuff that she might be interested in...blah blah blah. It's all good—they have fun. It's just before daylight when they return to her apartment, exhausted. They have a drink and look as if they could drop at any moment.

Spike: "It'll be daylight in a bit. S'pose I should get going in a minute, else there might be burning and dust and...really not a pretty sight."

Miranda: "I can give you a lift to the graveyard." (She gets a bemused look like: I've never said THAT before.)

Neither of them actually move off the couch. They look as if they're glued there.

Spike: "You have a lot of very heavy things. (beat) I'm just saying."

Miranda: (Not quite sure if she should offer—too forward? Oh, go on then) "You could stay here, if you like. There's only one window in the bedroom and the shade's pretty solid."

Spike: (Reminding her of what she's getting into) "I'd be stuck here all day tomorrow."

Miranda: "I can't imagine how we'd pass the time. Oh, but I do get BBC America on the telly."

Spike: (smiling) "Well, in that case..."

They eventually get up off the couch & flop on the bed. Too tired for more fooling around, they just go to sleep. I don't really see them cuddling as such, but lets just say they sleep closer to each other than they need to based on the size of the bed—perhaps just touching.

Next morning/afternoon. Noonish. They're both still sound asleep. Suddenly the doorbell rings. They both stir a bit. Miranda gets up after the second ring, grabs a robe and heads for the door. Very sleepy, she opens the door.

Miranda: "Buffy (!). Hi."

Buffy: (Seeing that Miranda has obviously just got up) "Oh, sorry. Did I get the day wrong? I could've sworn we said Wednesday."

Miranda: "The make-over—of course. Sorry. Completely slipped my mind."

Buffy: "Do you want to postpone? I could do Friday, too"

Miranda: "No, no. I'm meeting with the lawyers on Friday. We should go today. It'll just take me a minute to throw myself together. Can you hang on? What time's the appointment?"

Buffy: "Oh, we've got time. I thought maybe we'd hit the shops first anyway. I'll wait."

Miranda: "Fantastic. Be right back"

She goes into the bedroom and starts putting on some clothes. Spike wakes up in response to the light.

Spike: (half asleep) "What's going on? Thought we were staying in bed today, you know, BBC America."

Miranda: "About that. I completely forgot that I've got plans with Buffy today. I really can't cancel. Sleep as long as you want. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. The remote's on the coffee table—I'll try to be back before dark. (Looking at him, sleepy, shirtless, she momentarily considers changing her mind and staying. Yummie.) I'm so sorry about this."

He gives her the disappointed lip, but is a bit too sleepy to say anything. She's finished dressing and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her. He rolls over and goes instantly back to sleep, thinking: did she say Buffy was here?

Miranda: "Ok, I'm good to go."

Buffy: "Who were you talking to in there? (Her eye's light up in a sort of girlie-bonding sort of way) "Hot date last night?"

Miranda: (smiling) "You could say that."

Buffy: (conspiratorial) "He's still here? Explains the late morning, I guess. What's he like? Listen, I can come back..."

Miranda: "No, it's fine. I'll catch up with him later."

Buffy: "So it's going well, then?"

Miranda: "I think so. Anyway, we should go."

At that moment, she decides to not mention who it is. She just isn't in the mood to get into it with Buffy right now. If things continue to go well, then they can talk.

Author's quick summary: Miranda had asked Buffy to help her with a makeover to make her look more like a contemporary 21 year old. On Friday, she meets with some lawyers to sign the papers for her inheritance—basically, she is 'inheriting' money from herself, so she has to pass for her own grand-daughter. I had the idea that her lawyers would actually be from Wolfram and Hart, since they would have some expertise in dealing with all things/affairs non-human. The other lawyers there are from some distant relatives of her husband and so they have to pretend everything is normal. So she and Buffy go to the hair salon and shops of various kinds to buy clothes. Pretty much the whole day is gone by the time they are finished. It's about 7 o'clock, and seeing as it's winter, it's dark already.

Buffy: "We're all getting together for dinner tonight at the house. You want to come? We could head straight there."

Miranda: "Uh, I'd like to stop back to my place first and drop off a few things. Why don't you drop me and I'll meet you there in a bit?"

Buffy: "Sure. You can invite your...uh..friend if you want."

Miranda, still being coy about the whole thing just gives a nod and heads off. She's rather eager to see if Spike's still there. She opens the door to her apartment, only to find an empty beer bottle and a cigarette butt as evidence of his earlier presence. She looks disappointed. There is a message on her answering machine. She listens and frowns—

"Miranda, it's Claude. You're not an easy person to get a hold of. I'll be in Sunnydale through tonight. We need to meet. Give me a call."

Miranda: (she says to the machine) "Yeah, bugger off."

An hour or so later inside Buffy's house. Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, and Buffy are sitting in the livingroom about to dig into some pizza. The doorbell rings.

Buffy: "That must be Miranda. She might be bringing a guy."

Tara: "Really? She met someone already?"

Buffy: "She's being kind of secretive about the whole thing, but when I picked her up this morning...(She stops when she notices that Dawn is listening)...she, uh, mentioned that she had a date the night before. Anyway, I told her she should bring him over."

Buffy goes to the door. It is Miranda. She's alone and carrying a bag.

Buffy: (looking through the door after she walks in) "Just you?"

Miranda: "Just me. (looking into the room with everyone) I've brought some fun with me... (pulling out a bottle of wine) in liquid form and (pulling out a DVD case) cutting-edge technology form—don't know much about it, but thought I'd give it a go—the gentleman at the video shop was quite insistent."

Dawn: "We don't have a player. (looking at Buffy) I told you that everyone has one. Even Miranda and she's ANCIENT. (looking at Miranda) Oh, I mean, in a youngish kind of way."

Willow: "It's the thought that counts. So what did you get?"

Miranda: "Well, I had to rely on the man at the shop. I told him I wanted something with music in it—I'm trying to get caught up—and something that college kids would enjoy. He recommended this." (She hands the case to Xander.)

Xander: "The Wall? Pink Floyd? And how old was this shop guy?"

Miranda: "Oh, I don't know. 40?"

Xander: "And still working in a video shop. Explains a lot."

Miranda: "I know it's an old film. Still, he said it could be quite mesmerizing. Offered to sell me something that would enhance the experience, but I didn't think you lot were the sort to partake of such things. (looking around almost hopeful) You wouldn't be interested in that short of thing, would you? (judging from their response) No, I didn't think so (she carefully folds the "empty" bag and puts it back in her purse) Hm. I hadn't considered the possibility that you didn't have a player. I'd invite you back to my place, but I'm kind of avoiding someone."

Anya: "We've got a DVD player. You could all come over after pizza."

Dawn: "Can I, Buffy? Please?"

Buffy: "Uh. I guess. Oh, but it's a school night, so probably not a good idea."

Miranda: (to Dawn) "Why don't we plan on watching it again at the weekend, shall we? You can have a look 'round my place, ok?" (Dawn shrugs)

They all dig into the pizza. When they've just about gone through it, there's another knock on the door.

Dawn: "I'll get it."

She jumps up and goes to the door. She answers it and is soon walking back into the room with Spike behind her.

Spike: "So this is where you lot all are. Passed by the magic shop and it was all shut up."

Buffy: "And you're here because...?"

Spike: (annoyed) "Right, I have to have a reason. Fine. You patrolling tonight?"

Buffy: "Thought I'd take a quick whip around. Don't think I'll need any backup. It's been pretty quiet."

Spike: "Right then."

Dawn: "There's pizza if you want. Oh, but I guess you wouldn't, would you?"

Spike: "Thanks, Bit. Never been much for pizza."

Xander: "I guess you'll be on your way, then."

Miranda returns from the kitchen after having poured herself a glass of wine. The minute she sees Spike, her eyes light up. He gives her an acknowledging look.

Miranda: "We're just headed over to Xander and Anya's to watch a film—you want to come along?" (She tosses the DVD box over to him.)

Spike: "Pink Floyd? You're showing your age a bit. What am I saying, you were what, 100 years old when this came out?"

Miranda: "Older than that, I'm afraid. You should know—you're only two years younger than me."

Spike: "Apparently those two years make all the difference."

Miranda: "I haven't actually seen it. I was too busy being an adult at the time. I believe I even rolled my eyes like a good parent when my daughter brought it round. Anyway, it's all about getting in touch with my inner teenager."

Spike laughs a bit at this. It's rather obvious to those paying attention (not really anyone in the room, except maybe Dawn) that they're having quite a little flirtation.

Spike: "I'm up for that. (to Xander) Got any beer at your place?"

Xander: "I've got a better idea. Why don't we take another angle on the whole time-warp motif and have a look at Buffy's video collection, shall we?"

He walks over to the tv cabinet and starts calling out names of films.

Spike: (shaking his head) "I haven't been over to your place yet, have I? You don't want to invite me in?"

Xander: "You know, I could try to deny it, but what would be the point? (looking around for support) Am I wrong here?"

Miranda: (Annoyed with Xander's behavior, but wanting to avoid conflict and not really caring where they go as long as Spike is there) "I'm happy to stay here. Probably for the best if you're going out, right Buffy? Wouldn't want to leave Dawn alone."

Dawn: (thrilled at this prospect) "We've got lots of videos. Well, not exactly lots. Kinda only four, but they're good. And I could make popcorn."

Everyone agrees to this plan. They pick out a video and get ready to watch after putting away the pizza and making popcorn. Miranda and Spike exchange a few more words (and looks) before everyone gets settled for the movie (no one is paying attention), but there is no place for them to sit together (the couch is taken up by X & A, W & T). They turn the TV on before starting the video and find that there is some special news report—something nasty is happening in Sunnydale. Then the phone rings—it's Giles—he's seen it to. They agree that Buffy should go to the scene and check it out. Spike offers to come along and help out—Buffy agrees. Miranda is a bit annoyed/disappointed at this. Disappointed that she doesn't get to spend the evening with Spike and annoyed (and a bit jealous?), perhaps, at the look on his face during his interaction with Buffy. This is the first time she has picked up on the fact that his interest in helping Buffy is motivated by more than simply wanting to fight other demons. A few minutes after they leave, Miranda's cell phone rings. She reluctantly answers it, as if she knows who it will be. We hear her make plans to meet someone in 30 minutes at the Bronze. She says her goodbyes and heads off (everyone assumes that she is going to meet her new 'guy').


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Another warning--fairly strong sexual content in this chapter. I will edit as best I can.

Scene 10

Later that night at the Bronze. Spike and Buffy walk in, both scanning the crowd.

Buffy: (skeptical) "He wanted to meet you here?—this informant guy?"

Spike: (irritated) "Like I told you the last time you asked, yes, he said he'd come by a bit later."

Buffy: "So do we even have a ballpark time to work with?"

Spike: "Probably doesn't own a watch—exact time not high on the priority list for most demons I know."

Buffy: "I just don't get why he'd want to meet here. Isn't it a little out-in-the-open-y for a 'whatever'-demon?

Spike: (Increasingly annoyed at her obvious skepticism) "I don't know, maybe he likes the band. We don't all prefer the sewer you know. I, for one, quite fancy a beer."

Buffy: "And you're sure he's got something about tonight's happenings?"

Spike: "s'what he said. Listen, slayer, I don't know what your problem is. If you're so bothered to be here, you can just bugger off home and I'll wait—of course, this is, technically YOUR job—saving Sunnydale from the weekly doom. I might not be in such a rush."

Buffy: (resigned) "OK, ok. (looking around) So what does this guy/thing look like?"

Spike: "Changes all the time. I'll have to spot him."

Buffy: "What, so he's like a shape-shifter or something?"

Spike: "Nah, just has a thing for disguises. Probably wants to give 'human' a go, hence the choice of venue. Why don't you grab that table over there—it's got a good view of the place. (He starts walking towards the bar) Do you want anything?"

She just scowls at him. She's worried that he has contrived this situation to prolong their evening together. He shrugs it off and orders. She sits down at the bar table. As Spike returns with his beer, she's ordering something from a waitress.

Spike: "Decided to join me in a drink after all?"

Buffy: "It's fruit juice" (He makes a disgusted face)

They're both scanning opposite ends of the bar as they sit there. Suddenly Buffy appears to see something. She squints her eyes.

Buffy: "Is that Miranda over there?"

Spike turns to look. They see Miranda with a man they don't recognize sitting at a booth across the room. Spike turns back around with a slightly confused, considering look.

Buffy: (offhandedly) "I wonder if that's the guy (she squints her eyes again, trying to get a better look at him. Spike turns to look again) Don't look!"

Spike: "What guy?"

Buffy: "Oh, there's just been this guy that she's been seeing all week—She hasn't actually said much—guess she's not much of a kiss-and-tell type—but it's obvious that she likes him. She was practically beaming when I picked her up today."

Spike: (small smirk/smile) "Is that right? And you think that might be him she's with now?"

Buffy: (sort of talking to herself, i.e., not really looking at Spike) "I kinda thought he'd be younger...and a bit better looking. She's just so together, you know? Like she has this air of confidence or something all the time. I'd think it would take a lot to make an impression—(looking back to where Miranda is sitting) there must be something..."

Spike: (snarky) "Maybe he's a rocket scientist."

Buffy: (Finally noticing him and misinterpreting his look & comment as jealousy) "Oh, you're not taking that Valentine's thing too seriously, are you? (Oerhaps a bit of condescending concern) I mean, we all know how you _get_ about things like that."

Spike: (This is too good. He has to play around a bit) "And how is it that I "get", exactly?"

Buffy: "You know, all obsess-y. I just think she probably goes out with a lot of guys—you shouldn't—you know—take it too seriously."

Spike is just about to respond, when Buffy notices something after glancing back to Miranda's booth.

Buffy: "Ooh. Or maybe not. Some serious body language going on over there—and definitely not of the 'I'm-so-into-you' kind. Ooh. From the look of things, she's pretty PO'd, but trying to be polite. (pause) I think she's seen me. And she's giving the 'save me' signal. I think I should go over."

Spike: "The 'save me' signal?"

Buffy: "All women understand the 'bad date-save me' signals. It's universal."

They both get up and head over. When they are a few steps away, Buffy pretends she's surprised to see Miranda.

Buffy: (fake shock) "Miranda, hi. I thought that was you."

Miranda: "What a lovely surprise. Claude, I'd like you to meet some friends of mine—Buffy and Spike. Why don't you join us?" (Claude gives a rather uninterested nod acknowledging the introduction.)

Claude: (serious) "I should be going. (He gets up, putting on his coat. He says to Miranda) Give it some thought. I think you'll find that it's not so very different from what you've done before. I'll expect your call." (He leaves, paying absolutely no attention to B & S standing there.)

Miranda: (with a very forced smile) "Certainly."

Buffy and Spike slide into the booth, where Claude was, across from Miranda. The minute he is out of sight, Miranda lets down her guard and immediately appears agitated.

Miranda: (under her breath) "I'll tell you what else to expect—a swift kick in the arse. Bloody self-important BASTARD. (pause) WANKER!" (looking more and more angry)

Spike: "Don't mince your words."

Buffy: "Yeah, tell us how you really feel."

Miranda flags the waitress. She orders a double gin martini; Spike orders another beer.

Miranda: "Un-fucking believable. (to Buffy) Pardon the language—too angry to censor. BASTARD."

The drinks arrive; Miranda downs hers.

Buffy: "So do we have to guess? What was that all about?"

Miranda: "I could really use a cigarette right now—bloody California. Sorry. I'm not in the mood to go into great detail. Basically, Immortal men: bastards, all of 'em. (realizing) I mean, my kind of Immortal (glance to Spike). Still living in the effing Dark Ages—give new meaning to the term 'old boys club'. They think Immortal women are simply toys for their amusement—that we have to do whatever they want just to stay alive. It's always the same—some worse than others, of course. I'd been warned about Claude and his friends—I just didn't think he'd be so BLATANT about it. You know what he did? (Motions to whisper in Buffy's ear. She leans forward. Miranda sits back after telling her.)

Buffy: "He did NOT? That's disgusting."

Miranda: "Bastard"

Buffy: "So he threatened you?"

Miranda: "Pretty much."

Buffy: "And he wanted..? (the look on Miranda's face says it all) Oh."

Miranda: "I believe the exact words of the 'offer' went something like: (attempting to mimic his smarmy voice) "It doesn't have to interfere with your life, Miranda. You could come up and pay us a visit every month or so for a weekend. Sean has a lovely beach-house. Is that really so much to ask? I think you'll find it refreshing to be with your own kind. It does get lonely sometimes." (She rolls her eyes and shudders, then takes another long sip from her refreshed drink.)

Spike: "So why the act just now? You should've kicked his ass like the others."

Buffy: "For once, I think I agree with Spike."

Miranda: "It's actually more of a 'they', as in 'their asses'. Plus it's complicated."

Buffy: "There's got to be something you can do, right? They can't get away with that sort of thing now."

Miranda: (sarcastic) "Yeah, I don't believe that there is a sexual harassment training video for Immortals (She laughs a bit at the idea of it). Of course, this is America—surely there is someone to sue. I'll consult one of my watchers as to the proper course of action."

Buffy: "Watchers?"

Miranda: "Oh, right, that's what you call Giles—your Watcher. We've got Watchers, too, but they're not nearly so helpful. They simply WATCH and record what we do—like professional stalkers. See that kinda nerdy guy over there in the corner...with the glasses and the laptop? I think that's one of mine. He's always around."

Buffy: "You have more than one?"

Miranda: "I've never been too clear on the issue, but presumably since they're human, there would have to be a sequence of them. I've never even spoken to one. No matter. Don't think they've seen the video anyway."

Spike: (to Buffy) "Our informant just walked in. (to Miranda) Why don't you wait while we talk to this bloke—I could walk you home. You know, in case The Wanker is a bit anxious for a response."

Buffy: "Oh, like you'd be a big help. I'll go."

(Author's note: I figure that at this point, everyone assumes that Spike's chip would work for Miranda and her kind, simply because she appears totally human (i.e., her heart beats), hence the previous comment.)

Miranda: "No, it's all right. Claude may have detected my lack of enthusiasm, but I doubt he'd make a direct move on his threat tonight—besides, if he did, I'd have to fight him alone anyway. And even if he's simply lurking, I'd rather he didn't see us leave together—another infamous tactic of persuasion is to go after friends and family. I know you two can take care of yourselves, but I'd just assume not give him anything."

Spike looks frustrated at not being able to help AND not being able to walk Miranda home. Still, they need to talk to this guy and he figures he'll be able to catch her later, so he and Buffy head off. Miranda finishes her drink and leaves, still looking angry.

Skip ahead a bit. Spike and Buffy have already talked to the informant and Buffy heads off to consult with Giles. Spike leaves the Bronze and starts walking in the direction of Miranda's place. As he passes a nearby alley, he stops at the sound of breaking glass and decides to investigate. There in the back of the alley is Miranda, using her sword to bat beer bottles into a brick wall—she's made quite a pile of broken glass. Before she sees Spike, she picks up one more bottle and tosses it in the air. This one breaks when her sword hits it, sort of above her head—it still had some beer in it, and so she is splattered a bit. She kicks the wall in frustration.

Spike: "I'm not sure exactly what you're trying to do, but I don't think that wall is going to give up without a fight."

Miranda: "I just wanted to break something and this was all I could find. Not very satisfying, beer bottles—I'd like something bigger—and less smelly."

Spike: "I think you may have cut yourself on that last one—your hand's bleeding."

Miranda: "No, that would be when I punched the wall a bit earlier. Believe it or not, I've mellowed a bit since then. Bloody BASTARDS."

Spike: "I still don't see why you don't just fight him—you can't tell me you wouldn't want to smash his head like you've been smashing those bottles. Is it some sort of political thing?"

Miranda: "Bloody well right, I'd like kick him where it counts—tell him what he can do with his bloody beach house. I'd like to tell him to go fuck himself, but I can't. And yes, I would like to fight him, but I won't. (resigned) I won't because I can't beat him."

Spike: (incredulous) "What are you talking about? You handle a sword better than anyone I've seen. Of course you can beat him."

Miranda: (annoyed, she lashes out) "Listen, Spike, I know you're trying to help but you've known me all of about 5 minutes in Immortal time—there are things you simply don't understand, right."

Spike: "Are you afraid?"

Miranda: "Afraid to die, yeah. I'm not ready yet. I told you, I can't beat him."

Spike: "You said you were out of shape—you could work on that. I could help."

Miranda: (exasperated) "It's not about skill. Who wins a battle between Immortals has more to do with age and experience than with skill—with age and battle comes power. Those two I fought recently—they were like me. THAT was about skill. But Claude and his cronies—they've got 500 years minimum on me, and lord knows how many battles. Even if I were at the top of my game I might, with a bit of luck and a good night get the best of Claude. But after that, I could never take on the rest."

Spike: "I thought you lot had rules about that."

Miranda: "As long as each battle is one-on-one, the rules don't apply. Don't you see, I CAN'T win. (to herself) God, what made me think I could pull this off? Woulda done better to avoid all this and keep moving instead of trying to settle down."

Spike: "Keep running, you mean? So what, you're going to skip off, then? Run away?"

Miranda: "Maybe. What choice do I have? I'm not going to be their little weekend toy; I can't fight them."

Spike: "Listen to yourself—enough with the self-pity, already. If you want something, you fight for it—you find a way. Sounds like you're afraid and maybe not just of the Wankers up north. Besides, you can't leave now—you're the only interesting person in this town at the moment."

Miranda: (A bit pouty. She knows he's right about the fear.) "Who died and made you Mr. insightful? Oh, right, you did."

Spike: "So what are you going to do, then?"

Miranda: (considering) "Well, I've got gobs of money. Maybe I could buy them off. No, that won't work, they've got gobs, too. Maybe I could pay someone else to show them a good time—like a call girl or something."

Spike: "Doubt you'd find someone comparable."

Miranda: "You're right—it's not really about the sex, is it? It's the domination/power thing—probably wouldn't get their rocks off in the same way with someone who was paid. (Suddenly interpreting what Spike said a different way and smiling) Or wasn't that what you meant? Did you just pay me a compliment?"

Spike: (smiling back) "Maybe. Could you blackmail them or something? Or take away their money somehow so they WOULD need it."

Miranda: (She's pacing now, considering) "That's good. Very devious—I like it. Hm, I'll have to...(She stops and looks directly at Spike) How did you do that?"

Spike: "Do what?"

Miranda: "Five minutes ago, I was so angry and upset, I could have exploded with rage—ready to leave town or worse—and now I feel Ok—almost optimistic about things. How did you do that? You de-fused me. Like a bomb or something. And that's no easy task—I've got a wicked temper."

Spike: (shrugs) "I've seen worse."

Miranda: "I'll bet you have. I still have a bit of a desire to break things, but now just for the fun of it."

Spike: "Now you're talking—I know where we can find some BIG breakables. You want to take a look?"

Miranda: "As long as it's not actually illegal. If I'm going to stick around, it wouldn't be a good idea to have a police record."

Spike: "Legality's in the eye of the beholder, innit?"

They head off. Spike takes them to what looks like a small junkyard for electronic devices. They end up carrying a couple of Televisions and a microwave up to the roof of a building and dropping them off into an alley below. After they toss the last one off, they stand looking over the railing.

Spike: "Better?"

Miranda: "Yeah—that was brilliant. Fantastic idea of yours. I only wish we had a guitar. I've always wanted to smash a guitar."

Spike: "Next time. (pause) So you want to come back to my place?"

Miranda: "No."

Spike: (surprised & joking) "No? Well, then, I take back the 'most interesting person in Sunnydale' comment"

Miranda: "This was fun. But I'm tired. And there's still a bit of residual man-hating anger that I should probably work out. You want to do something tomorrow?"

Spike: "Maybe. Not sure we can top the exploding cathode-ray tube on that last TV set..."

Miranda: "Do you know much about music? (beat) Rock music?

Spike: "a bit."

Miranda: "Meet me at the record shop on mainstreet tomorrow at 8? I could use some help picking out some CD's."

Spike: "Ok. (pause) Don't I at least get a kiss?"

Miranda: "No."

Spike: "Again, with the 'No'. You're walking on thin ice now with the 'comparable' compliment."

Miranda: "If I kiss you, I'll go home with you and I'm tired—plus we wouldn't want the residual man-hating anger to pop up at any crucial moments."

Spike: (a bit more serious) "So if you decide to skip town—you swing by my place first?"

Miranda: "I'm not going to skip town. We have a date, right? I don't stand people up—it's a matter of principle"

Spike: "Tomorrow, then"

End scene.

Scene 11

The next day, in front of the record shop. Miranda is leaning against a wall outside the shop, intently looking over a piece of paper. Spike saunters up, stopping just in front of her.

Spike: "Is it safe now?"

Miranda: (Smiling and letting her hand carrying the paper drop to her side) "Reasonably."

At this, he immediately steps closer and leans in for a kiss. It's short, but intense. She feels her knees go a bit weak—why are they here again? Oh, right. Music.

Miranda: "hmmm. Hello. So you ready to help me pick out some music?"

Spike: "What's this all about, then?"

They talk as they walk into the shop.

Miranda: "I've decided that I sort of missed the whole rock music thing. I mean, I was around, but not paying attention. There was this program on cable the other day—something about a hall-of-fame for rock musicians—I took notes (indicating her piece of paper). Anyway, I bought a hi-fi this afternoon—I don't think the guy at the shop could BELIEVE his luck. Apparently women don't tend to invest much in hi-fi equipment. So I bought the best one they had and here we are now to get some music. I'd like to focus on the last 30 years or so, but I really have no idea."

Spike: "You're serious? (pause) Let's have a look at your notes, then." (grabbing the piece of paper)

Miranda: (explaining) "There's a list of inductees that sounded even remotely interesting—they played about 20 seconds of music for each—and then a little star by the ones that I liked the best."

Spike: "Very methodical." (He scans the paper and then quickly tosses it in the trash.)

Miranda: (annoyed) "What did you do that for?"

Spike: "First thing—you're going about this the wrong way—rock music is not methodical. I'll pick you out some things to start with."

Miranda: (skeptical) "I don't want all the same kind—I want to hear everything."

Spike: "Trust me. I know something about this."

They spend the next hour or two picking out music—listening to some of it in the store. It's fun. She's surprised at how much he knows, considering he's a vampire and all. They leave with a bag full of Cds and head back to her place. Once they arrive, she orders some food, opens a bottle of wine and they get to work hooking up the hi-fi, which was still in a box. They only get so far, when they realize that the speakers haven't been delivered yet—so no music tonight. She sits on the couch with her glass of wine. Spike is over at the kitchen counter pouring himself a glass and looking over her purchases.

Miranda: "So do you have a hi-fi set up in your crypt?"

Spike: "Not at the moment. I cobbled something together from a few bits and pieces, but the way I have to steal electricity makes the flow irregular. It's fine for a TV and the occasional light, but not ideal for a decent hi-fi. (Picking up a CD) I can't believe I let you talk me into letting you buy Fleetwood Mac."

Miranda: (defensive) "It came highly recommended. And I can be very persuasive."

Spike: (smiling) "That, I'm sure of."

Pause; change of subject

Miranda: "So tell me more about this chip of yours."

Spike: "I think you've probably gotten the gist of it. Gives me a nasty headache any time I try to hurt a human—don't know what would actually happen if I made it through the first wave of pain and actually succeeded. Beyond that, I can't tell you much."

Miranda: "Sounds a bit of nasty piece of work. I can see their motivation for preventing you from killing loads of people, but it seems a rather ruthless side effect that you can't even defend yourself."

Spike: "Don't think they were too concerned for my ultimate well-being."

Miranda: "What about intent? Does that make a difference? Buffy told me about those places that people go, who get a high off of getting bitten—have you tried that?"

Spike: "No good. The chip still fires."

Miranda: "Do you have any idea what it cues in on? How it knows what's human and what's not?"

Spike: "No. Why so curious all of a sudden?"

Miranda: "I was just thinking that technically, I'm not human. Last time I looked into it, which admittedly was many years ago, there wasn't a medical test available that would indicate that I'm not human—but here I am. I wonder if the chip would know."

Spike: (confused about where she's going with this) "You're not worried that I'd try to hurt you? 'Cause then you'd be sounding like one of the scoobies—I don't always want to hurt everybody. (adding with a little smile) Especially not if there's the potential for regular sex."

Miranda: "Oh, not that. I'm not thinking that you'd beat me up or something. I was just thinking about...the other thing."

Spike: (still confused) "So what, you're worried that I'd try to bite you?"

Miranda: "You're the one who keeps putting the 'worried' in there. I'm just wondering if you could if I were to _let_ you."

A look crosses Spike's face as he gets it—could she really be suggesting what it sounds like she's suggesting? He's about to ask, when the doorbell rings.

Miranda: "Thank goodness, I'm starving."

She goes to the door, pays the deliveryman and brings the pizza inside. She puts it on the coffee table and takes a slice as she sits back down on the couch. Spike is obviously distracted by his thoughts, which are racing, but he waits for her to finishing chewing.

Spike: "So about this biting thing..."

Miranda: "Keep your knickers on. We're still in the world of the hypothetical."

Spike: "And what would we be hypothetically discussing, exactly?"

Miranda: "The prospect of my letting you bite me."

She reaches for another slice of pizza.

Spike: "And there it is. (beat) Did I mention that you continually surprise me, Miranda—every time I see you, there's something new."

Miranda: (casually, as if thinking out loud) "Of course it couldn't really be a food kind of thing because that just seems...I don't know, parasitic or something. No, it would definitely have to be a sensual/sexual kind of thing—at least that's how I would see it. You know, more like kinky sex than a midnight snack. What do you think?"

Spike: "Sounds workable."

Miranda: "How much control do you have?"

Spike: "What do you mean?"

Miranda: "In terms of how much you take."

Spike: "Uh, pretty good control—to make someone a vampire, you have to stop at a very particular point."

Miranda: "Hm. We're still just talking, right. But I wonder if it would be like giving a drink to an alcoholic—maybe it would make you more miserable—like starting over just when you've gotten used to the idea of never biting again. And I might not like it—I'm not particularly into pain."

As they discuss, it turns into almost a negotiation. Miranda is playing it very cool and casual. The arousal and excitement on Spike's face is more and more evident.

Spike: (soft, sexy voice) "Oh, but I could be gentle."

His tone of voice makes her temporarily loose her 'cool' demeanor and she momentarily stops breathing.

Miranda: (snapping out of it) "So maybe I agree in principle—I do heal quickly. But I might not taste the same—perhaps you wouldn't like it."

Spike: "Everything so far has tasted good. I guess we won't know 'till we try."

Miranda: "And what's the worst that could happen, really? Either the chip fails and you get a migraine resulting in our night being ruined or the chip doesn't work, you lose control and take too much resulting in me kicking your ass when I wake up tomorrow and never letting you near my neck again."

Spike: "That about covers it—doesn't seem such a bad risk."

Miranda: "But in case it doesn't all go horribly wrong, I think it would be wise to set some rules—and given that you're the one with the teeth, I should be the one to make them."

Spike: "s'reasonable. What did you have in mind?"

Miranda: (considering) "I decide if and when—no biting without asking first. With regards to timing...I think I should have my 'fun' first—you know, endorphins and such. I think it would hurt less."

Spike: (He laughs a bit at this) "And of course if I get a migraine, you've still had your fun."

Miranda: "That, too. I never claimed to be unselfish."

Spike: "Anything else?"

Miranda: (a bit more serious) "You stop if I ask you to."

Spike: "Done" (He leans forward to kiss her. Just as things start to heat up, she pulls away.)

Miranda: "Wait. One more thing. I want to see it. I don't want to be surprised—you know—at the moment."

Spike changes into his 'game face'. She's startled for just a fraction of a second—an almost imperceptible intake of breath. She then looks at him for a moment—moves her hand over his face gently.

Miranda: (She whispers) "Ok"

He changes back and they start kissing again. After a few minutes on the couch, he lifts her up and carries her into the bedroom. They're a bit more deliberate this time—not so rushed/frantic like before. They kiss, deeply. They lay down and with their legs intertwined, push themselves into each other, each caressing the other's still clothed body. As their movement gets more passionate, they pull at each other's clothes. She pulls his t-shirt over his head—they stop kissing just long enough to extract the shirt. Not wanting to pull away from her, he rips open her shirt instead and then lifts up her back just enough to pull it off behind her. He runs his hand around the back of her bra, looking for the clasp—it's not there and he discovers it in front and easily snaps it open.

Spike: "I like these front-closing ones; such easy access."

He takes a breast in each hand and massages them until her nipples are both hard. He pulls back a minute and admires them before taking one in his mouth. She gasps.

Miranda: "I forget that your mouth isn't hot."

He breaks away and pulls down her pants, leaving her panties on. Still kneeling on the bed after taking her pants completely off, he strokes the front of her panties with his hand, just letting his thumb reach underneath. She arches her back at this and inhales deeply.

Spike: "Ooh, ready to go already? Have you been thinking naughty thoughts?"

Just then she sits up, and moves her hands over the top of his pants, feeling his hardness. He closes his eyes as she does this. After a minute, he gently pushes her back down and pulls off her panties. He leans in between her legs and gives her a long, deliberate lick.

Spike: "See, you taste just right to me—like honey."

He starts to move back in to taste some more, when she stops him.

Miranda: "No, this time I want you inside me—I want you to feel it."

(AN: Edited. Quick summary: rampant shagging--fun was had by all.)

Spike: "I had planned on waiting until after, but, uh, that was too good."

Miranda: "Probably for the best, right?—likelihood of a migraine and all." (She looks straight into his eyes) "It's ok—whenever now."

A look of deep longing comes over his face. He moves his hand down her neck as he looks on intently—searching for just the right spot. Her heart starts to race in anticipation—she's a bit afraid. He finds it and leaves his fingers there as he vamps out. He looks back at her face for a moment and says "you sure?". She nods. With that, he moves in gently, first kissing her neck, then as gently as he is able, biting down. She inhales sharply as his teeth pierce her skin and she grabs hold of his shoulders tightly—she can hear him drinking. She tries not to cry out in pain, but a tear streams down her cheek. But it's not simply pain—it's more; indescribable, exquisite. After a moment, he pulls away, first kissing the wound softly, licking off the blood and then kissing upwards on her neck—by the time he reaches her lips, he's back to his human face.

Spike: (softly) "You OK?"

Miranda: (a bit breathless) "Yeah. (feeling something and smiling) and I guess we know where THAT lot went."

Spike: "We may just be on to something."

They start making love again Miranda flips over to be on top. She straddles him and as she slowly rotates her hips, she sits up tall, biting her lower lip—you can see a small stream of blood flowing slowly from the bite mark on her neck. Just a few drops, as her Immortal body stops the bleeding quickly. Fuelled by the excitement (and the blood), they continue like this all night—enjoying each other over and over. Skip ahead a few hours. It's morning. They're both sitting up in the middle of the bed, facing each other, with arms and legs intertwined. Miranda's legs are wrapped around Spike as she moves her hips every-so-slightly using her body to caress him gently inside her. They're covered in what must be Miranda's sweat and have a slightly sleepy/contented look. They're kissing slowly, just enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Miranda pulls back for a moment and whispers "I don't want it to end—it feels so right". Spike kisses her again softly, then asks "Can I take a bit more?" She nods. He goes back to the same wound and re-opens it to take a few more mouthfuls. After such a long night, it's (the blood loss) just enough to make her weak and her grip on him loosens and she gently falls backwards. He moves with her and then uses the corner of the sheet with a bit of pressure to halt the bleeding. He rolls over onto his back and pulls her with him, so her head is resting on his chest. She's a bit out-of-it, but manages to lift her head enough to say "William, would you do something for me before you go to sleep?"

Spike: (softly) "Anything, love."

Miranda: "There's a water bottle in the refrigerator—would you put it by the bed?"

He gets up and does as she asks (she's asleep by the time he gets back), then returns to bed where they both fall fast asleep.

Skip ahead a few hours. It's about 2pm. The phone rings. After the third ring, Miranda finally stirs, but Spike is dead to the world. She answers it. It's Giles, asking her to bring a book he'd lent her when she comes by to work on the translation today. CRAP. Scoobie meeting at Buffy's house. Some old prophesy in need of decryption that she had promised to help out on TODAY. And she's already late CRAP! She stumbles out of bed, greedily drinking the bottle of water. She begins to get dressed and starts frantically looking through her closet for something. Miranda: "Thank god I let Buffy talk me into that dreadful turtle-neck number the other day." She finishes getting ready, not terribly steady on her feet. Spike is sleeping so soundly, she decides not to try to wake him. She leaves him a note, telling him where she's gone.

(Author's note: I left something out of an earlier scene that I am now too lazy to go back and put in. It's rather relevant for the next scene, so I'm just going to tell you. At some point Miranda asks Spike to keep their level of PDA's (public displays of affection) to a minimum when they're around Giles—she tells him about Giles' crush and that he's her friend and she doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. So for the time being, she asks that they don't advertise their relationship when he's around (she doesn't care about the rest of the scoobies). After some protestation, Spike agrees to try to not molest her in front of Giles.)

That afternoon (3pm) at Buffy's house.

(Author's note: I can't explain why I thought they'd be meeting at Buffy's house. It doesn't make much sense now, but at the time, that's where it was set and so I'm just going to leave it there.)

Everyone's there, pouring over books, or at least pretending to. Dawn is doing homework and listening to a CD with headphones. Miranda arrives, looking a bit rough/disheveled.

Miranda: "Good morning, everyone."

Giles: "It's three o'clock in the afternoon."

Miranda: "Is it REALLY? Good lord, where does the time go?"

Buffy: "That has GOT to be the biggest bottle of Gatorade I have EVER SEEN."

Miranda: "It's important to stay hydrated—everyone take note."

Miranda sets up her laptop and starts opening some files.

Miranda: "Anyone making tea?"

Giles: "I think the kettle's still hot; I could use another cup myself—I'll whip up a couple of mugs. Anyone else?"

Giles leaves. Buffy walks over and sits down across from Miranda.

Buffy: (girlie-talk voice) "You smell like a boy. Is that cologne?"

Miranda: "Don't be silly. Must be my new deodorant—I'm never sure which ones to buy nowadays."

Anya walks over and takes a sniff.

Anya: "Mmm. That's nice. I do love the 'man' smell. Mixed with a bit of sweat after a day at the construction site, I'm happy to skip the foreplay altogether. Ask Xander."

Buffy: (ignoring Anya, except for a slight frown, she turns back to Miranda) "And I thought you didn't LIKE turtle-necks."

Miranda: "Well, you know, after you going on and on about fashion, blah blah blah, I thought I'd give 'em another chance."

Buffy: "You know what I think? I think you were with that guy again last night and you're wearing THAT to cover up a hickey. Am I right?"

Miranda: "What an ugly word—hickey. We call them love bites in England."

Giles walks back in.

Buffy: (to Miranda) "We'll talk later."

They all get to work. After multiple embarrassing stomach growls from Miranda, they agree to order some food. She wolfs down a GIANT spinach salad and finishes her multiple gallons of Gatorade. Periodically, she folds her arms on the table resting her head on them, trying to be inconspicuous when she takes in a deep sniff—she can smell him on her still. A few hours go by. Finally, it gets dark. As soon as it does, Miranda's energy level starts to increase.

Dawn: "I don't get it. You've gulped down more Gatorade than anyone I've ever seen and yet you haven't gone to the bathroom once. Where does all the liquid go?"

Buffy: "Dawn!"

Miranda: "I guess I was a bit dehydrated."

Soon there's a knock at the door. Spike pops his head in. He strolls into the room where everyone is, disappointed to see Giles showing Miranda something from a book.

Spike: (mock surprise) "What, a big meeting of the scoobie minds and I wasn't invited? What's the doom of the moment, then? (thinking of something) So did you used to have meetings like this about me back in the day?"

Willow: "Never."

Giles: (to Spike) "It's actually good that you're here. I'd like you to go with Buffy tonight to check out these caves just outside of town—you'll be looking for this (shows him a bunch of symbols from a book). There's likely to be XXXXXX-demons around and I know you're familiar with their language from previous DEALINGS that you've had with their sort. They might have some useful information for us."

Spike: "Whatever you say, Alfred. You know me, always happy to help (dripping sarcasm). (quick glance to Miranda) I mean, uh, yeah, sure, I'll go."

Giles: (to Buffy) Let me just make a copy of this before you go. Should only take me a few minutes."

Buffy: "Really, no rush. Caves not high on my list of weekend must-goes."

Spike walks over toward where Miranda is working. He passes by Anya on his way and when he does, she looks up, having noticed something.

Spike: "So did you get that thing I left for you?"

Miranda: "I did. Thanks."

Spike: "I found something else you might be interested in."

Miranda: "oh yeah?"

He moves closer and puts something on the table in front of her, just letting his finger touch her hand after he sets it down. She closes her eyes when his skin touches hers. The item is folded in a white cotton handkerchief. She unfolds it carefully to reveal her cross necklace. She must have forgotten to put it back on when she got dressed. She looks around quickly to see if anyone can see it (they can't because it's behind her laptop) and then she drops it into the pocket of her bag.

Miranda: (in case anyone is listening) "I think I might already have something like this. I'll have a closer look when I get back to the shop."

Spike: "Let me know. There's more where that came from—maybe lots more."

Once again, to anyone who is paying attention, this is a very loaded conversation. It's rather obvious that they're just speaking words to each other as an excuse to be close. This time, someone is watching them—Anya. She looks as if she's about to burst—she starts to fidget. Xander asks her what's wrong. Nothing, she says, but she looks as if she is desperately holding something back. After about 5 minutes, Giles goes into the kitchen for some reason.

Anya: (She can't hold back any longer; to Spike and Miranda she bursts out, pointing at them) "You two had SEX last night. (turning to the rest of the room) They had SEX last night."

Xander: "Yeah, right, in his dreams maybe."

Anya: "No, Buffy, smell him. He smells like her."

Buffy: "I am NOT going to..."

Anya: "Look at them—they've got 'morning-after' written all over them. Well, am I right?" (More proud of herself for figuring it out (and concerned if she's right) than upset.)

Everyone is now looking at them. Miranda is actually turning a bit red; she can't hold back a smile. Dawn suddenly looks up from her books and notices that everyone is now looking at M & S. She turns off her walkman.

Tara: "Oh my god, it's true, isn't it?"

Dawn: (confused; frustrated that she missed something important) "What's true?"

Spike: (defensive) "What? It's not like it was the first time."

Miranda busts out with a small laugh at this.

Miranda: "Spike, I really don't think that response is what they were hoping for."

Dawn: "First time for what?"

Buffy: (angry, to Spike) "Out. (pointing at the door) Spike, Out. Now. Wait for me outside."

Spike looks over at Miranda; he can't keep himself from grinning.

Miranda: "Go on. I'll be out in a minute for a smoke."

He leaves with a smug smile on his face.

Buffy: (as soon as he's out the door) "What were you thinking? I thought you were dating someone—someone cool. (she cups her hands over Dawn's ears) And then you just up and sleep with Spike" (She has not yet made the leap that Spike is 'the guy'.)

Miranda: "Uh, I think you might be a bit confused about things..."

Buffy: "You're beaming again. Stop it! (to everyone) She's beaming isn't she?"

Tara: (looking closely at Miranda) "I might go with 'glowing', but beaming works."

Buffy: (duh, getting it) "Oh my god. Spike's 'the guy'"

Dawn: "Miranda's dating Spike?"

She's the only one who is not upset by the thought of that.

Xander: "I'm sure 'dating' is a bit of an overstatement. I mean, surely she's just using him for...(noticing Dawn)...something."

Miranda: "Xander!—what a dreadful thing to say. I don't use people. (Smiling in the direction of Anya who is now sitting next to her at the table) Although there are some things that he has quite a talent for." (And don't call me Shirley. heh.)

Xander: "Well, Spike isn't exactly 'people'. I don't think you get that yet."

Anya: (ignoring Xander; to Miranda) "What things?"

Xander shoots her a disapproving look. In response:

Anya: "I'm just trying to understand WHAT she could've been thinking. (brief pause) So, uh, what things?"

At this, Miranda leans over and whispers in Anya's ear. Anya looks surprised and a bit flustered.

Anya: "oh my." (looking at Miranda, she "covertly" holds up 6 fingers with an inquisitive look. Miranda nods in response, then leans back over again and whispers something else. Anya picks up a piece of paper and starts using it like a fan."ooh. My goodness me. (suddenly looking back at everyone else) Disgusting! Don't' know what she was thinking." (still using the paper as a fan)

Dawn: (whining) "What things?"

Just then Giles comes back into the room, having conveniently missed all of this. He notices that they've all stopped talking.

Giles: "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

Miranda: "Not really. I'm just going outside for a smoke"

She gets up and walks to the door. When she passes Buffy, Buffy grabs her arm and says "seriously, we need to talk about this. Lunch tomorrow?" Miranda: "ok, ok. Lunch" She walks out the front door. Dawn immediately moves over to the window, peeking out through the blinds—she has a clear view to where Spike is waiting by the tree. Buffy rolls her eyes at this, but Giles is already trying to show her something, so she doesn't say anything.

Outside the house. Miranda walks over to where Spike is waiting. As soon as she is within reach, he lifts her up and rests her slightly against the tree as he kisses her (she's higher than he is). After a passionate few seconds of kissing, he sets her down.

Spike: (looking over her face) "Last night was...incredible."

Miranda: (smiles in agreement) "I'd go as far as unprecedented."

Spike: "Buffy's going to be out in a minute. Can I see you later?"

Miranda: (sighing, skeptical) "Listen, I'm exhausted. This week has been rather intense. I could use a bit of recovery time—(smiling in a guilty/naughty way) I'm sore in more places than one. I'm just going to head home, flip on the telly and flop on the couch until I fall asleep."

Spike: (undeterred) "Sounds brilliant."

Miranda: "I'm serious. There is zero possibility of sex or biting."

Spike: (unphased) "I'll come by after patrolling, then."

She smiles and gives a nod in agreement. They hear Buffy coming out of the door. Spike thinks of something and reaches around the other side of the tree to get it—it's a rather pathetic bunch of flowers that he obviously must have scrounged from gardens on his way over. He hands them to Miranda. She has a somewhat surprised look (pleasantly)—who'd have thought he'd be the type to give flowers?

Buffy: (from the sidewalk; annoyed, but resigned. She really doesn't want to go on this fact-finding mission with Spike now) "Let's go."

Miranda walks back into the house, smelling the flowers. Spike leaves with Buffy.

(Author's note: I have toyed with the idea of inserting a scene here—what happens between Buffy and Spike that evening. Ultimately, I decided against it. I basically see Spike as being very down to business—noticeably so, as he is trying to get the task done so that he can go to Miranda's place. This is really the first time we see him more eager to spend time with Miranda than with Buffy. I also toyed with the idea of Buffy making some comment to the tune of asking Spike if he's doing this to try to make her jealous and have him respond sarcastically "oh right, because there is NO OTHER POSSIBLE reason why I'd want to shag Miranda". But you know, I just couldn't get a scene to work, so that's the end of it. I also see Miranda being very pleased with her ugly bunch of flowers as she walks back into the house—they look dreadful in the light, but they SMELL nice (night blooming flowers attract insects by their smell, not their colors).)

Miranda's apartment later that night. She's lying on the couch, eyes closed. The TV is on. We see the door handle turn (it's locked). Spike, knowing that she's probably asleep, jimmies the lock and comes in. As the door opens, Miranda stirs (she was half awake, listening for him). He climbs onto the couch, moving in behind her so that they're both laying down facing the TV. He whispers,

Spike: "What's on?"

Miranda: "Nothing much."

Spike: "So that was your blood you gave me before? (she nods) Why didn't you tell me?"

Miranda: "Seemed a bit presumptuous for a first date—perhaps even creepy. (mocking) 'Hi, pleased to meet you—here, have some of my bodily fluids'."

Spike: "Good point."

He reaches his arm under her shirt, first moving it up her back and then around as he nuzzles her neck.

Spike: (remembering something) "So what are those marks on your back? Tattoos?" (He's referring to two fairly large shapes on the upper center of Miranda's back that are shaped something like two apostrophes or parentheses facing in opposite directions.)

Miranda: (a twinge of excitement passes through her as she remembers when he would have had a clear view of her back the night before) "Sleeping now...no more questions."

He starts to pull up her shirt to look at them again.

Miranda: (mock irritated) "Ok. Ok. They're where my wings were attached." (Just as Spike starts to get a confused look on his face, a huge grin comes across her face and she starts to laugh) "Oh, I can never pull that off. I don't know actually—birthmarks I guess. My mother came up with the wing idea—she used to tell me that I must have been very very naughty and so God had taken my wings away and sent me down to Earth as punishment. But I was very lucky, you see, because most children never had wings at all and probably, if I were _very very_ good, someday God would give them back to me and I could fly. I think she may have said 'fly up to heaven', but I only heard 'fly'."

Spike: "And so were you _very very_ good?"

Miranda: "Oh, I tried. As a motivating tool, it worked quite well—mum was clever. I wanted to fly more than anything. I became fixated by the idea. Of course, I had trouble with the '_very very_ good' part. I always could think of _something_ that I'd done wrong. Still, when I was 8, I went a whole month without doing anything bad and I was SURE I'd get my wings. I checked every morning. No wings. Gave up on the 'very very good' bit after that—figured there must be more to it."

Spike: "And the rest is history..." (she smiles)

Miranda: "Sleeping now."

They both fall asleep soon after this. Sometime close to dawn, he gets up and starts to leave—decides not to wake her. Just as he's about to walk out the door, he thinks of something. He grabs a bit of paper, scribbles on it and leaves it on the coffee table. It's a map of the cemetery with his crypt marked.


	5. Chapter 5

Scene 12

A restaurant in town. Miranda walks in, looking around—She's dressed up, looking much more lively than the day before. She's wearing a scarf around her neck. She sees Buffy sitting at a table and heads over.

Miranda: "Sorry I'm late. The lawyers postponed the inheritance meeting until this afternoon and so I wanted to be ready to head straight over after lunch."

Buffy: "No problem. I've only been here a minute. Nice outfit—you look remarkably 21-ish."

Miranda: "Thanks to you. Keep your fingers crossed. If all goes well, I'll be able to open my shop and move out of that dreadful apartment building."

They make small talk as they look at the menu. They order—Miranda gets a glass of wine—she hasn't been looking forward to this confrontation.

Buffy: "So about this thing with Spike..."

Miranda: "Do we really have to have this conversation?"

Buffy: "Yes, we do. I don't think you understand what you're getting in to."

Miranda: (obviously mildly annoyed) "And I suppose you're going to explain it to me."

Buffy: "That's why we're here. Listen, I understand that you feel this connection with him—the whole growing up together thing. I get that you'd want to spend time with him—talk about the old days and stuff like that..." (She's not finished, but Miranda interrupts her.)

Miranda: "Well, yeah. That and he's bloody gorgeous."

Buffy: (scrunched up face) "Spike? I don't know if I'd..." (M interrupts her again)

Miranda: "Have you ever actually looked at him? For more than a second? If you had, I think you'd agree that he's strikingly handsome. So before you go on and on about emotional 'connections', which to be fair, do exist to some extent, you might want to consider that I may simply find him attractive."

Buffy: "Be that as it may, you need to be clear on what he is and what he's done."

Miranda: "Buffy, I don't mean to sound rude, but you're what, 22 years old? I'd lived four distinct lifetimes before you were even born. I feel pretty comfortable with my relationship skills and so forgive me if I'm skeptical about your ability to give me advice on what's best for me."

Buffy: "I'll grant that you know more about relationships than I do, but I know more about vampires and that's what you're dealing with here. So just hear me out, ok?"

Miranda: "Point taken. Carry on."

Buffy: "I know Spike seems like a regular guy to you, but he's not. He has killed countless thousands of innocent people—including two slayers. And it wasn't self-defense—he hunted them down with the sole purpose of killing them. If he could have, he would have killed me. Like I told him once, he's like a serial killer in prison—the chip takes away his ability to hurt people, but it doesn't change what he is. The minute that chip stops working—the minute he can feed again, he will. He can't be trusted."

Miranda: (listening politely, processing what Buffy just said) "And yet you fight alongside him. I find that a bit perplexing—Back in the day when fighting was my trade, I would definitely be more likely to sleep with a man I couldn't trust than fight alongside him—there's much more at risk in battle."

Buffy: (dismissively) "He gets off on fighting and I can use his help—there's nothing more to it than that."

Miranda: "What's to keep him leaving you in a lurch—at some critical moment when there's more than you can handle on your own, just leaving you to get your ass kicked?"

Buffy: "He'd never leave a fight."

Miranda: "That's all there is to it?"

Buffy: "That's all. Trust me when I say that if he could hurt you, he would. He's a killer."

Miranda: "Ok then. You're objections have been duly noted—your obligation fulfilled."

Buffy: (annoyed) "This isn't a joke"

Miranda: "I know. I just think you all are taking this far too seriously. We just get on, is all—we're having a bit of fun. I really don't see the harm."

Buffy: "Just be careful, OK?"

Miranda: (sincerely) "You don't need to worry about me, Buffy. I can take care of myself. But I appreciate your concern."

They finish lunch without talking much more about it. The mood is slightly strained, but not awful. Miranda held back telling Buffy that Spike could actually hurt her if he wanted to—she's not eager to get into that discussion—her gut telling her that Buffy would be a bit put off by the biting business.

Spike's crypt later that afternoon.

Miranda quietly opens the door and slips inside. She's got a bottle of champagne and starts to sneak quietly towards the entrance to the 'bedroom' below. Before she gets very far, she notices that the TV is on and Spike is asleep on the couch in front of it. He is disappointingly clothed. She smiles and moves towards the couch. Once she's standing right beside, she struggles with the champagne bottle to remove the cork without a loud pop—she only mildly succeeds. The cork pops, the champagne flows out of the bottle and onto Spike below, who immediately wakes up. She actually helps the flow until he grabs her wrist as he sits up. She's now sitting on the outer edge of the couch.

Spike: (the shock/surprise is quickly replaced by a smile/smirk) "Hey—that's cold. What are you on about, then?"

Miranda: "I figured you'd be in bed—champagne is always best drunk in bed—I thought it a fantastically clever idea to drink it off your chest because it wouldn't get warm. But there you are, fully clothed."

Spike: "That's easily rectified—especially now that my shirt's all wet."

Miranda: "I think the moment's past. Still, we've got cause to celebrate." (She takes a swig and passes the bottle to Spike.)

Spike: "Why's that then? (takes a swig and thinks for a moment) A week since our first snog?"

Miranda: "What are you, a girl? All right, we've got three reasons to celebrate. A week since our first snog, I've just signed the papers to get my inheritance and I think I've found a way to screw Claude."

Spike: "Or, rather, NOT screw Claude."

Miranda: "Exactly."

Spike: "Sounds like you've had a busy morning—feeling a bit more perky, then?"

Miranda: "Actually, yeah. Yesterday seems a bit hazy—almost like it was a dream."

Spike: "I could probably help with that—the Claude business—if you want."

Miranda: "I was hoping you'd offer. I have a couple ideas; all of which I can't quite manage on my own. Let's hash it out tomorrow, all right?"

Spike: "Got something else on your mind to do tonight?" (naughty grin)

Miranda: "Maybe. (smile. pause.) The other night...was...well...let's just say, you got my attention."

Spike: (He sits up. She moves over and straddles him—sitting back on his legs. He runs his fingers through her hair) "I couldn't sleep this morning, thinking about it—about you. (He pulls down her scarf to look at the bite mark.) Almost gone."

Miranda: (She moves her hand to the mark on her neck and feels it, remembering…) "It was so...the intensity...it was unlike anything I've ever experienced. I can't help worrying if it was too soon or too much somehow..."

Spike: "I don't think it was 'too' anything. (beat) S'different than anything I've done—not the same drinking from a victim or another vampire. (He strokes her neck gently with the back of his hand) Beyond all expectation."

Miranda: "Is it wrong that I suddenly would be quite happy to spend every night with you?—When just last week I was reveling in my independence?"

Spike: "Very, very wrong."

Their faces are very close now. After a minute of just being close, they kiss and things are starting to heat up again. Miranda pulls back after a minute.

Miranda: "Now YOU'VE got the timing all wrong. If we have sex now, then what'll we have to look forward to?"

Spike: "uh, shagging again later?"

Miranda: "God, this is silly—I'm too old and wise for this kind of thing." (big smile)

Spike: "What kind of thing?"

Miranda: "I've been thinking about this ALL DAY—sitting here with you on your couch, having a snog. For God's sake, Buffy expended a great deal of effort this afternoon over lunch telling me all sorts of things about you that were meant to make me shudder, and yet all I thought about the entire time was whether or not to stop by this afternoon—would it be better to wait? But then patience has never been one of my virtues."

As soon as Miranda mentioned Buffy, Spike stiffened a bit. Before Miranda had finished speaking, it was obvious that the mood had been somewhat broken. Spike leans back against the couch—obviously bothered by the fact of Buffy speaking badly of him.

Spike: "What did she say?"

Miranda was somewhat expecting this. She'd rather have everything out in the open—right now this is all fun and games, so why not be completely honest? She moves over and kneels on the couch next to him.

Miranda: "First, it was the usual "He's a vampire. He has no soul. The chip doesn't change who he is"—nothing terribly interesting from my perspective—nothing I hadn't already considered. (brief pause) Then she told me about your penchant for hunting slayers—and your previous successes. I know she meant for it to be an indication of the blackness of your character—but in truth, I think it simply makes you different—different from other vampires. Instead of running from the one thing put on this earth to hunt you, you chose to not only turn and fight, but to hunt the hunter—to seek her out. I think that makes you brave. Is that why you came to Sunnydale—to kill Buffy?"

Spike: "Something like that—more like I was here and so was she, so I stuck around. (pause) Aren't you going to ask?"

Miranda: "Ask what?"

Spike: "Why I didn't kill Buffy? She must have told you that I was here for a bit before the chip business."

Miranda: (casually and confidently) "I know why you didn't kill Buffy. (He looks at her; surprised and curious) It wasn't quite as easy as you'd thought...(pause) and then you fell in love with her."

She was guessing—perhaps hoping to be wrong, but with a strong feeling that it was likely true.

Spike: (His 'usual' expression when he's trying to deny something—similar to 'Crush') "What? no...I..."

Miranda: "It's Ok. Really. I know something about that particular situation—or something similar. It's not all that uncommon."

Spike: (His demeanor moves from surprise to something akin to relief) "I don't know how it happened...it just..." (He doesn't finish.)

Miranda: "Lucky for me, and perhaps lucky for you, she is incapable of seeing you—of seeing anything other than what she expects."

Spike: (somber) "So I'm lucky, then?"

Miranda: "Like I said, I know something about this kind of situation—you could never be what she thinks she wants and you could never be happy knowing that."

Spike: "Maybe. Sorry. (trying to shrug it off) Guess we kinda got off the subject."

He quickly lights a cigarette. She grabs the champagne bottle and takes another swig before handing him the bottle. The mood lightens a bit.

Spike: "So you weren't too put off then? By what Buffy said?"

Miranda: "I'm here, aren't I? Still, I think you should know that...that if I'd met you before—things would be different. I don't mind what's in the past—I respect who you were, but I couldn't be with that person."

Spike nods in acknowledgment of what she's trying to say.

Spike: (trying to lighten things a bit) "So, does that mean that you ARE with me now?"

Miranda: (lifts her eyebrows, but doesn't answer) "Listen, I can't see you tonight."

Spike: "What?"

Miranda: "I've got a date...(waiting for a reaction) with Dawn. I promised to take her shopping and out to a movie. (Looking at her watch) Oh, and I'm already late to pick her up. Shall I come by later?"

He responds in the affirmative and they part with a kiss. He's still in a bit of a funk when she leaves. He sits on the couch and finishes the bottle of champagne.

End Scene

A couple weeks go by. Miranda is busy setting up her shop. She convinces Anya to work part-time for her as the antique shop is so close to the magic shop. Spike and Miranda continue to see each other regularly. They continue to have excellent sex—biting is less frequent (than the sex) but regular. The gang is still not pleased with the situation, but don't intervene in any substantial way because of what Miranda told Buffy—that it's just a 'fun' thing and not to be taken too seriously. They still have no clue about the biting.

Scene 13

The Bronze. Buffy, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara arrive late-ish on a Saturday night and find Miranda and Spike at a table—They've obviously had a few; particularly Miranda who is smiling and laughing. After a brief discussion, the gang decides to join them and they walk over to the table.

Buffy: "Must've been a good joke."

Miranda: "Not really. Between you and me, comedy isn't his strong point. I'm just in the mood for a laugh."

Spike: "Hey! I'll have you know that I can be quite hilarious."

Miranda: "Sarcastic more like. Anyway, drinks on me tonight."

Anya: "ooh, yay! In that case, I want one of those frozen drinks—the ones Xander never lets me get because they're so expensive."

Xander: "I just don't see why the use of a blender should add $5 to the price of a drink—it's just crushed ice."

Willow: (to Miranda) "What's up with the celebratory vibe?"

Miranda: "Spike and I have just pulled off the most fantastic scam. (looking admiringly at Spike) I'll tell you, he's really got a head for it."

Buffy: "The wankers up north?"

(at this Spike starts laughing)

Buffy: "What?"

Spike: "It's just funny to hear an American say 'wanker'—do you even know what it means?"

Buffy: "I know it's an insult" (Willow whispers in her ear) "Oh" (embarrassed)

Miranda: "Yeah, I don't think I'll have to worry so much about Claude for a bit anyway. I'm telling you, it was a plan brilliantly conceived and flawlessly executed. (to Spike) I thought Claude was going to shit a brick when you walked in with that Manchester United t-shirt on—you looked so pissed."

Spike: "Coulda been an actor, me."

Miranda: "Not that football hooligan is that much of a stretch, really."

(Confused looks all around)

Miranda: "It's too much to explain. Leave it that Claude is now indebted to me and hasn't a clue that I'm the one who put him there. God, I had no idea how much that whole thing was weighing on me—I feel absolutely giddy."

Miranda comes through with the round of drinks, but it soon becomes too uncomfortable to bear—the gang can't quite deal with the 'couply-ness' of M & S and they are fairly self involved to boot. Soon the scoobies head off to their own table and M & S head out (after a couple more drinks). Spike seems normal, but Miranda is quite tipsy—the relief she feels is palpable. They just leave the bar and are starting to walk in the direction of Spike's crypt.

Miranda: "So. It seems to me that we work quite well together. Did you enjoy it?"

Spike: (a bit surprised) "Yeah. Never thought anything that didn't involve actual killing could be so much fun. Of course, I did get to break stuff, which is another one of my favorites."

Miranda: (getting an idea) "I don't suppose you'd be interested in helping out on a more regular basis—you know, being partners or something in the antiques business. That is, if you don't have a thing against sleeping with the boss."

Spike: (mock skeptical) "'The boss, eh. So not exactly _partners_, as such."

Miranda: "Oops. I did say 'boss' didn't I. (makes a face) Well, all the stuff is actually mine to begin with. I could pay you."

Spike: "Never quite envisioned myself as a shop-keep. (considering) Keep the pay, lose the 'boss' and we'll see how it goes."

Miranda: "All right. (thinking) So does the no reflection business apply to video cameras? Because that could be quite useful—I've got an idea or two for acquiring a couple of rather expensive goodies.""

After a while, they reach Spike's crypt. Spike lifts Miranda up and carries her over his shoulder inside—she's laughing. He sets her down and they start kissing.

Spike: "You know, I've got some handcuffs—and some chains. How about a little something different tonight?"

Miranda: (a slightly disturbed look passes across her face, fleetingly) "Oh, I'm sorry, my sweet. I have a bit of a thing against being confined. You'll find I'm quite open minded about most things—all except that."

Spike: "What about scarves?"

Miranda: "Sorry"

Spike: "S'all right. We've got plenty of other options…."


	6. Chapter 6 begin Part 2

Part 2

Scene 1

Miranda and Spike work together to plan some kind of minor heist that will take place at an upcoming regional Antiques show in L.A. (just for dealers). It will be quite an event with all the major players in the business—including a few other Immortals. In some great hall, they all set up a kind of 'display' booth with items they wish to trade or sell. The event itself runs more like an art show, with all the players dressed to the nines, roaming around the "gallery", evaluating the competition. Essentially, everyone is trying to cheat every one else, or at least get the best deal. Foul play is rampant at these events, but everyone knows it and expects it. Miranda has her eye on a couple of items that she hopes will be at the show and in addition, simply wants to make her presence known. Unbeknownst to her (and most of the attendees), there is a dealer who will be bringing artifacts that have a certain amount of mystical power—things that no one wants to fall into the wrong hands. In order to adequately protect these items during the show and to attempt to keep the foul play to a minimum, the organizer of the event hires Angel Investigations to 'police' the event—and to prevent the mystical items from disappearing and/or find out who is likely to want to steal them—It's likely that Wolfram and Hart and some demon-types may be involved.

Miranda arrives about a week or so before the actual event to get set up. Basically, most of the players preview each other's merchandise before the actual show and most deals are made prior. Spike will meet her in LA the day before the show—he's bringing down some of her things and is responsible for actually snagging the items she wants from another dealer during the event. I see Angel and the gang ('the gang' is pre-Fred, being Wesley, Cordelia & Gunn) investigating all the dealers that are attending the event—they are each assigned one or two people who they 'interview'. Angel gets Miranda's name and proceeds to attempt to strike up a conversation with her during the general set-up. What I mean by 'set-up' is that each dealer is assigned a space in the event Hall and at their own pace, bring and unpack their items and then usually work quite hard on the display of these items. They often wander around during this time looking at each other's merchandise. Miranda is looking at a display of antique weaponry when Angel tries to inconspicuously saunter up and make small talk. Also, I assume that Miranda doesn't know anything about Angel—has not been a topic of conversation since she's been hanging with the scoobies.

Angel: "So you like swords?"

Miranda: (Giving him a sideways look—she's noticed him following her around) "I'm not sure that this samurai sword is authentic. What do you think?" (She lifts it off its case and tosses it to him. He unsheathes it and holds it like a pro as he examines it. He then replaces the sheath and hands it back to her.)

Angel: "I'm not really an expert, but I think that'd slice through a neck pretty easily—hard to fake that."

Miranda: "Hm. Still looks a bit naff to me. (finding something else) These are nice." (She picks up a pair of short, dagger-length swords/knives with handles.)

Angel: "Mind if I have a look?" (She hands them over and watches as he grips the handles)

Miranda: "You've used them before?"

Angel: "Me? Noooo. Just a collector. When would I...what makes you think...?"

Miranda: "Most people grip them the other way if they've never seen them in action—you did it correctly."

Angel: "Lucky guess. So, uh, you from around here?"

Miranda: "Used to be. Not anymore."

Angel: "You're English, right?"

Miranda: "Smart boy. (sarcastic) What gave it away?"

Angel: "Well, first I'd never heard an American use the word 'naff' before...and then there's the way you...(suddenly realizing by the way she's looking at him that the question was rhetorical). Oh, you don't really want to know."

Miranda walks on. She can't help but be mildly amused at his attempts at conversation. They're now at the next booth, which has more mundane household items and some paintings.

Angel: "So what are you in to?"

Miranda: "Pardon?"

Angel: "I mean, what's your specialty—what type of antiques?"

Miranda: "Don't really have one. I like to have a variety of things on hand. (She's rather enjoying making this difficult for him. She walks over to where a set of paintings (portraits) are leaning up against a wall. She pauses at one in particular.)

Angel: "She looks a bit like you."

Miranda: (under her breath) "Bloody Darren—wherever did you come up with this? (to Angel, nonchalant) Could be a relative. My ancestors were quite posh—the sort who paid for portraits like this. Hm. I'll have to ask Darren when he appears. It's quite lovely." (She sets it back and starts walking away. Angel follows and is obviously about to say something when Miranda stops him.)

Miranda: "Let me guess. Is it the weather this time?"

Angel: "Is what the weather?"

Miranda: "The next topic of conversation. I can hardly wait. Listen, Mr..." (waiting for him to offer his name)

Angel: "Angel"

Miranda: "Mr. Angel, I..."

Angel: (interrupting) "not Mr. Angel. Just Angel."

Miranda: (a quick laugh escapes her) "You're kidding? (one look from him and she realizes he isn't) "Look, Angel, I haven't quite been able to discern from your pathetic attempts at small talk whether you are simply a lonely bloke trying to pick me up or some sort of investigator trying to pump me for information. In either instance, I'd have to say that you're failing miserably. I suggest that you forgo the runaround and get to the point so that I know what I'm dealing with."

Angel: (He's a little flustered by her abruptness—and the fact that as she turned to face him and spoke directly to him for the first time, he suddenly became aware of how attractive she is.) "Uh. Pumping. I mean, the second one. (He pulls out his card and hands it to her) Geoffrey hired me—us—to make sure everything goes smoothly."

She can tell he's holding something back. She likes the idea of getting the inside scoop on the security for the event, so she decides not to blow him off.

Miranda: "I'll tell you what. I'm about to get a bite to eat and I hate to eat alone. Why don't you tag along, you can buy me a drink and I'll be happy to cooperate, all right?"

Angel: "I'm not actually that hungry. Can we just talk here?"

Miranda: "Oh, I think you misunderstood. I'm not suggesting we have dinner together—just that you accompany me while I eat and have a drink. Is that a problem?"

Angel: "No, no. It's fine."

Miranda: "Right then. Give me 5 minutes."

They go to a nearby pub. Miranda answers Angel's questions and she even gives him some information on a few of the other dealers. After a bit, she is able to get out of him what in particular he is most concerned with (the mystical/magical items). She offers to keep an ear and an eye open—she, herself has absolutely no interest in these items and so is truly happy to help out and is relieved that he poses no real threat to her plans, as the focus of the security is elsewhere. She clues him in on how these events often go, complete with stories of past foul play. She manages to talk him into having a drink with her and the conversation occasionally drifts to other things—she is able to get him talking a bit, much to his surprise. She's had a lot of experience making even the most shy/quiet/broody men feel comfortable. She is not attracted to him in the least, but is enjoying their chat—she can tell he's not human and guesses that he is possibly quite old, but nothing has been spoken. There is a side of her that feels a kinship with his broody/pensive/sad demeanor. She finds his cluelessness refreshing. He is somewhat transfixed by her. He worries a bit about how easy she seems to be able to get him to open up about things—he's probably already told her too much about the artifacts. There is something different about her, but he can't quite put his finger on it. After a brief pause in the conversation, they both talk at once:

Miranda: "You're not human." Angel: "You're the woman in the picture."

(they laugh)

Miranda: "You first."

Angel: "The woman in the picture—it was you, right?"

Miranda: "Quite likely. It's funny—it was such a long time ago, I don't actually remember sitting for it, but there it was. Now you. You're not human."

Angel: "Nope."

Miranda: "Can I ask how old you are?"

Angel: "Judging by that portrait, I'd say older than you."

Miranda: "Hm. Not by too much, I suspect. Although it's all relative, isn't it? What's a few generations to people like us?"

Angel: "You were younger in the portrait—so you haven't always been...as you are?"

Miranda: "Not quite. Do I detect a fading irish accent hiding there?"

Angel: "From long ago. I'm surprised you could tell."

Miranda: "My ears are sensitive to it. My husband was Irish. It's just the mood of a couple of words and phrases that give it away."

Angel: "Was?"

Miranda: "He was human. Ever mix with humans—in that way?"

Angel: "Once."

Miranda: "Ended badly, didn't it?"

Angel: (pause) "Yeah."

Miranda: (She's touched by the obvious emotion in his voice—something she can relate to) "Stuck it out to the end?"

Angel: "No. It was complicated."

Miranda: "You did the right thing. It's not worth it, you know. It would've just about killed you if you had. I'll never do that again, I'll tell you. I'm finished dating humans."

Angel: "So what's the alternative?"

Miranda: "I've come to learn that there are all sorts of immortals walking about—or at least types not as fragile as humans, so I thought I'd try that out for a bit. (Suddenly not wanting him to get the wrong impression) In fact, I've been dating someone for a few weeks now."

Angel: "Oh."

Miranda: "It's better, I think. Better not to have that cloud of mortality always just overhead."

Angel: "Hm."

After this rather melancholy conversation, they soon decide to leave. Miranda goes back to her hotel, Angel back to his. Neither one is completely sure WHAT the other one is still—they never got past the vagueries. It's definitely not clear to Angel at this point the extent to which Miranda is invulnerable vs. simply that she lives a long time.

Angel, Cordy, Wes and Gunn meet the next day to discuss what they've learned. As is often the case with these things, there are many suspicious people out there and so they have a hard time eliminating potential threats. Angel tells them what he learned about Miranda, which, when he tries to articulate it, turns out to actually be very little. Still, when he's finished, he pronounces that she should be eliminated from the 'suspicious' group. To which the gang bristles a bit.

Cordelia: "Hang on just a minute there, flyboy. Do we really know enough about her to know she's not a threat? I think maybe someone is thinking with a part of him that has no business making decisions."

Gunn: "You say she's not human, right. So what is she then?"

Angel: "I don't know. She's old, I know that."

Gunn: "uh-huh. How old exactly?

Angel: "I don't know exactly. Not as old as me."

Cordelia: "Oh, that's real specific. I think you got something to go on there." (eye roll)

Gunn: "Where's grandma from, anyway?"

Angel: "Well, we didn't actually get to that. (he offers) Not L.A."

Wesley: "What does she deal in? Weapons? Cutlery? Vases?"

Angel: "Um. Well..."

Cordelia: "What did you talk about with her until 11 last night?"

Angel: (shrugs) "Stuff. Ok, so I didn't get much information, but I get a good vibe from her."

Cordelia: "A good vibe?"

Angel: "Yeah. She's on the right side. I can tell."

Gunn: "How can you tell?"

Angel: "Call it vampire intuition."

Wesley: "I'm not sure I'm ready to cross her off the list because of 'vampire intuition'. We'll keep an eye on her like everyone else for now."

Over the next few days, they (Angel, etc.) interact with Miranda on a couple of occasions and she is helpful in introducing them to some of her colleagues who have been arriving over the past few days. Angel and Miranda are friendly with each other. At one point, I had a scene in mind where there is some sort of altercation with 'bad guys' of some sort where it becomes evident that 1) Angel is a vampire and 2) Miranda can take care of herself (is good in a fight), but I couldn't quite get it to work, so you have the summary. Jump forward to the evening before the BIG NIGHT. Things are starting to happen and as a precaution, Angel et al. are watching everyone very closely. Cordelia and Gunn are the ones who follow Miranda after she leaves the hall around 10pm. Miranda first stops at the hotel and gets changed into something appropriate for a nightclub—she looks v. sexy and chic. After favorably critiquing Miranda's outfit and estimating what it must have cost her, Cordelia notes that she, herself is in no way dressed appropriately to follow Miranda into a club. She won't let it go and starts to drive Gunn crazy with her whining (ah, this is old Cordelia!). Once they see where she's going, Cordy convinces Gunn to let her run and change while he stays and keeps an eye on M. While Cordy is away, Gunn goes into the club and sees Miranda get a drink at the bar—is she scoping the place, or looking for someone in particular? The place is getting more and more crowded. Miranda finishes her drink and seemingly decides to hit the dance floor by herself (she's actually spotted Spike and thought it would be fun to watch him (watch her) from the dance floor). She's dancing enticingly. Suddenly, she's lost sight of Spike—he's no longer sitting where he was. She starts to turn around slowly, looking for him, when he appears behind her. He puts his hands on her shoulders and she turns her head without turning around and smiles, leaning back into him. He spins her around and brushes her cheek with his hand. They dance, slowly and seductively. Gunn is watching and mumbles "friendly girl". After a while, Cordy arrives and finds Gunn.

Cordelia: "What's up with grandma?"

Gunn: "Grandma's been getting real friendly on the dance floor with some guy in leather."

Cordelia: "ooh. Gotta see that. Where is she?" (Gunn points her view in the right direction. By the time Cordy spots her, Miranda and Spike are kissing on the dance floor—Cordelia sees the back of Spike) "Wait a minute. There's something familiar about that coat...and that hair (M & S turn slightly so C can see) Oh my God. That's Spike. We need to warn her."

Gunn: "Who's Spike?"

Cordelia:"He's a vampire—bad news. Let's go."

C & G start heading towards the dance floor, but the crowd is very dense. Their progress is slow and by the time they get to where M & S were dancing, they're gone. They search the bar, but can't find them and finally admit that they must have left together. They look around a bit in the surrounding alleys to no avail. They try calling Miranda's hotel room after a bit, but get no response. Finally, they give up and head back to the hotel to give the bad news to Angel. The bad news being 1) that Spike is in town and 2) that Miranda left with him. At this point, they do not think that Miranda knows Spike—only that perhaps he may have 'lured' her into the alley or something to bite her. I am still working on the assumption that they don't know about the chip.

End Scene.

Scene 2

Rewind a bit to just after Spike & Miranda leave the club. They start to head off to where Miranda's rental car is parked, but Spike keeps impeding their progress by periodically pushing her back against nearby buildings to kiss her.

Miranda: "Stop it, will you? There'll be plenty of time for that a bit later. Were you able to find everything at the shop that I asked you to bring?"

Spike: "Yeah, it's all in the van parked over by the Hall. (She tries to extricate herself and walk on—he stops her.) But I missed you."

Miranda: "I missed you too, but we should check on the van before we head back to the hotel. (beat) It's got a king sized bed."

Spike: "Or. We could forgo the hotel and the bed and just duck around the corner for a bit before we check on the van."

Miranda: (Obviously tempted; she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed him until she smelled him—touched him) "God, you're a naughty boy. Tempting as that sounds, lets just get the work out of the way and we can spend the rest of the night playing."

Spike: "Okay. Slave driver. But you'll have to make it up to me."

Miranda: "It'll be my pleasure."

They do what they need to do—stop off at the van; scope out the grounds of the Hall, etc. Finally, they return to the hotel. There's a note on the door saying that she'd had a delivery and they'd put it in the room.

Miranda: "Fantastic. Just wait to you see this."

Spike: "Could it be another lovely present from Miranda? I'm afraid."

Miranda: "Sort of. (She's very excited as she opens the closet to reveal two things hanging. She unzips the plastic covering on one of them to reveal a very stylish and modern all-black tuxedo) This, is what you're going to wear tomorrow night."

Spike: (He looks at it and frowns) "I don't think so."

Miranda: "What? But it's brilliant—you'll look stunning."

Spike: "Yeah, not really my style though, is it? Don't wear suits. Sorry."

Miranda: "Come on now. Do you have any idea how much that suit cost me? More money than you'll ever see in one place, I'll tell you that."

Spike: "I don't care if you spent half your bloody fortune on it, I'm not wearing it. I'm not some doll that you can dress up any way you fancy. No way."

Miranda: (big sigh) "Spike. I'm not asking you to make it a permanent part of your wardrobe—this isn't me telling you how to dress. The show tomorrow is black tie—that means all men have to wear a tuxedo to get in the door. If you're going to be my date—and that's the way we've worked it out so that you'll have access to the back rooms during the presentations—you have to wear the tux. What did you think? You'd escort me in my evening dress in your black t-shirt and trousers?"

Spike: "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

Miranda: "Just try it on, ok? Trust me. No one will have a tux quite like this one—it was MADE for someone like you. Even bloody Johnnie Rotten would look good in this tux."

Spike: (skeptical) "I'll put it on. But if I look stupid—like some puffter—we'll have to find another way."

Miranda: "Promise."

Spike: "To make this a less tortuous experience, I think you should dress me—after, of course, you've un-dressed me."

She smiles and walks over to him. First, she puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes off his jacket, pausing briefly to touch her cheek with his. She then pulls up his t-shirt, running her hands along the sides of his bare chest as she does so. Then, looking straight into his eyes, she grabs his belt buckle and undoes the clasp, undoes the button of his pants and unzips. The pants are rather fitted and so don't fall—so she works her hands under them on either side of his hips and pushes down. She pauses for a moment at the point where she would have to kneel down to pull them the rest of the way and leans into him. She has to concentrate to get back to the task at hand. He's loving this.

Spike: "Aren't you going to go all the way?"

She smiles as she pulls back and works the pants down to his ankles, pulls off one boot at a time and then the corresponding pant leg. As usual, lacking in undergarments, he's now naked. She walks to the closet and takes out the tux. She pauses to look at him for a moment before taking the shirt off the hanger.

Miranda: (reluctant now to cover him up) "Now I'm beginning to see what you mean by tortuous".

She takes a deep breath and proceeds to dress him in the tux. When she's done, she stands back to look at him."

Spike: (impatient) "Well?"

He looks fantastic. The tux fits his lean body like a glove—it's the kind of tux that a rock star could where and somehow still not look out-of-sorts. It's a bit strange to see him dressed like this, because it's SPIKE, but objectively, he looks stunning.

Miranda: "Oh Spike. (looking him over) It is such a pity that you can't see yourself. I will be the envy of every woman at the show tomorrow. And perhaps a few of the men as well."

Spike: (laughs) "You HAD to throw that in, didn't you? Just when I was weakening."

Miranda: "Come on. Do you know what I'm thinking about right now? I'm contemplating how I can have sex with you in that suit without wrinkling it. (cocks her head) hmmm. Perhaps we'll have to leave that until tomorrow night, when wrinkling isn't such a concern."

Spike: "Now you're playing dirty. All right. You win. Penguin suit it is. Now get me out of this thing before I instinctively find a pile of dirt to roll in."

They hang the tux up carefully and then immediately get on the bed. They're kneeling, facing each other. They're very close, but not touching—the anticipation is palpable as they move nearer to each other without contact.

Spike: "I never used to think so, but 5 days is a very long time—not sure we can make up for it in one night."

Miranda: "Next time, let me at least give you a cell phone so we can have phone sex."

Spike: "Phone sex? Somehow that doesn't sound very satisfying."

There is seemingly a sudden release of energy in the room as they lunge at each other. Still both kneeling, Spike quickly takes off her top and pulls down her pants to her knees, but then he can't wait and pushes her back on the bed and enters her with a moan of relief.

Spike: "Five days thinking about this exact moment and it's even better. You've tightened up a bit already."

Miranda: "That or you've grown." (smiling)

They get into a groove and both are too quickly ready to come—to keep it going, Spike stops for a moment.

Spike: "Let's take those pants off, shall we?"

He goes to the foot of the bed and pulls off her shoes. He takes her toes in his mouth, which makes her gasp in delight. He pulls off her pants and when he's finished with the second leg, she turns over, gets on her knees and holds onto the headboard, looking back at him over her shoulder seductively. He takes the cue and moves up to her on his knees... etc. etc... (mutal enjoyment. ahem.)

Spike: "I don't think I can wait for the second thing I've been thinking about for five days." (And with this, he vamps out and moves in to bite.)

Miranda: (taken by surprise) "No. Spike. Not now." (She squirms and pushes him away.)

Spike: "So that's the game tonight? I like it."

He takes her arms and pushes them into the pillows by her head (he's much stronger than she is, obviously) and with a little 'play' growl, he bites her. She continues to protest.

Miranda: "NO! Spike. I mean it."

She slips her arms out from under him and using them, and then her legs, tries to push him off.

Miranda: "Spike this isn't a game. Listen to me!"

She's getting very angry and upset as he continues to drink. After what seems like minutes (although in truth, its only seconds), she gets an angle and is able to just push him away.

Miranda:"Get off! Get off...you..._animal_."

Spike: (freaked by her tone of voice) "What's wrong?"

Miranda is bleeding quite profusely from the bite—her activity and anger are making her bleed more quickly. Spike moves in with a bit of the sheet to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding, but she bats his hand away and tries to get up. She's light-headed and so as soon as she stands up, her knees buckle and she has to support herself on a chair.

Spike: (irritated) "What's your problem?"

Miranda: "MY problem? My problem? You broke the bloody first rule, remember? Ask first. And then you completely ignored me when I asked you to stop, you bastard."

Spike: "Sorry, love, I didn't think you meant it."

Miranda: (low and angry) "Get out."

Spike: "You can't be serious. I said I was sorry. Was just a misunderstanding is all."

Miranda: "I can't trust you. Just get out so I can think."

She's a bit irrational because of the drop in blood pressure and the sudden worry that perhaps she can't trust him and how could she have been so careless—lots of things are running through her mind as the tears well up.

Spike: (frustrated) "I don't see what the big deal is. I said I was sorry. I'll listen more closely next time."

Miranda: "You are not the one who decides whether or not it's a big deal. (calming down a bit) I am. That's why the rules are important. I'm the one affected—I make the rules. (Spike is still looking puzzled. There is a pause before Miranda speaks again) Do you have any idea who is going to be at this thing tomorrow—who may in fact be in this very hotel right now? Immortals. Very old ones, some—thousands of years old. I have to be on my guard. I have to be at my best. (Her voice cracks and her hands are shaking a bit) What you did could cost me everything. (She's now sitting on the floor by the chair.)

Spike: (softening; feeling bad) "I didn't know."

Miranda: "Of course you didn't. But I did. I shouldn't have put myself in this situation. Fuck. I'm dating a bloody vampire. How could I expect you to follow rules? It's my fault for thinking I can trust you."

Spike: "That's not fair. Don't give up on me yet—I just wasn't thinking. I was so happy to see you..."

Miranda: (the anger is gone from her voice; it has softened into sadness) "Could you just give me a minute? Get a drink at the bar downstairs or something? I need to think."

Spike: "yeah, Ok."

He puts some clothes on and leaves. She sits there for a bit and then gets up and goes to the bathroom to clean herself up. She's feeling very weak. She goes to her purse and pulls out a phone number. Skip ahead 30 minutes or so. Miranda appears at the hotel bar where Spike is waiting. She looks pale, but in a better mood. She sits at the bar stool next to him.

Miranda: "Care to buy me a drink?"

Spike: "That depends. What's in it for me?"

Miranda: "An apology."

Spike: "And what do you have to be sorry for? I thought I was meant to be the bad guy."

Miranda: "I think perhaps we're both on the dark side of grey in this particular occasion. I overreacted. (pause) I'm just so skittish around other Immortals—haven't quite figured it out yet—how to behave. I guess I was more uptight about it than I thought. Sorry to have gone all psycho-bitchy on you up there."

Spike: "Lucky for you, I've had quite a lot of experience dealing with crazy women. Still want that drink?"

Miranda: "Nah. Let's just go to bed"

They head upstairs.

Spike: "You know, if you're worried about not being in top form for tomorrow, I am capable of helping you out. Kicking ass is something I do quite well."

Miranda: "I know. I actually called one of the few Immortal friends I have while you were at the bar. He assured me that these things usually go off without incident—kind of an unwritten rule. Of course, that doesn't help me with my REAL problem—how to cover up the bite marks while still being able to wear my sexy sleeveless evening gown."

Spike: "So NOW we get to the real reason for your psycho behavior before—the dress."

They get back into bed and go to sleep—they have a make-up shag in the morning :)

End Scene.

Scene 3

Outside the entrance to the event. People dressed in tuxes and evening dresses are milling about. Angel and the others are watching the entrance carefully. Angel is still very agitated from Cordy and Gunn's news about last night—they haven't been able to get a hold of Miranda (they actually had been given the wrong room number by mistake and so had spend the night calling the wrong place) and he assumes the worst. Still, they have an obligation to do the job they were hired to do—police the event. Spike and Miranda have planned to meet at the Hall—she needed to take care of some last minute business and so is a few minutes late. Spike arrives with his usual swagger and after looking around briefly and not seeing Miranda, he starts to light a cigarette. He is suddenly grabbed by the lapels and thrown hard against a wall by Angel.

Spike: "Nice to see you too, Peaches. Why don't you take your bloody hands off me, you daft overgrown penguin." (Angel is in a more traditional tuxedo; Spike breaks away briefly, but then Angel grabs hold again.)

Angel: "What did you do to Miranda? Cordy saw you with her last night."

Spike: "So. What business is it of yours?"

Angel: (seething) "What did you _do_?"

Spike: "Has it really been that long for you? Poor sod. I could draw you a picture if it would help."

This infuriates Angel, as he assumes that Spike is talking about biting/killing. He puts his hand on Spike's throat and starts choking him.

Angel: "I am SO going to enjoy dusting you once and for all."

Just as he's fumbling in his tux for a stake, Cordy calls to Angel from the entrance and he turns to look at her—she's pointing to Miranda who is still at quite a distance, but walking in the general direction of the door. She hasn't seen Angel and Spike. Angel loosens his grip slightly and Spike squirms his way out of Angel's grasp.

Spike: "Don't know what you're on about. She's my girlfriend, you tosser. And what we DO is entirely none of your business."

Angel is frozen for a moment, taking this in; Spike takes the opportunity to shove him hard. Just then, Miranda comes hurrying up to them. She quickly pulls them apart and steps in between them.

Miranda: (angry) "What's going on here?"

Angel: (trying to explain) "Uh, Cordy saw you leave with Spike last night and so we just assumed that he'd..."

Miranda: "You were having me followed? Now there's a sign of trust. You know each other?"

Spike: (much bitterness) "Peaches and I go way back, don't we?"

Angel: (more bitterness) "You could say that."

Miranda: (facing Angel) "Regardless, Spike's here with me tonight—we're partners. And I surely hope you didn't damage his tux with your fighting, else I shall be very cross with you."

Spike, now enjoying the moment has his arms around Miranda possessively from behind.

Spike: (smirking at Angel) "She looks lovely, don't you think?" (Angel just scowls)

Miranda: "You'll have to excuse us—I'm expected at my booth. I do have something to tell you, Angel, that may be helpful to your investigation. I'll catch up with you a bit later."

At this, they stroll towards the entrance, arm-in-arm. Angel tells the others of this development and instructs them all to watch Spike carefully. A bit later, Cordy runs into Miranda in the restroom. Miranda is fiddling with her necklace, which is a fairly wide choker of laced gold. As Cordy comes in, Miranda is lifting up the choker slightly to apply some cover-up to the bite mark. She tries to pretend that it just a regular hicky and says "Men. They do like to leave their mark, don't they?" Cordelia plays along, but knows a vampire bite when she sees one. She immediately goes running to Angel with the news, which both confuses him and fuels his suspicion of Spike. As promised, Miranda arranges to meet Angel just outside the back door to tell him something she found out from one of her Immortal friends about the heist of the artifacts. They stop outside—she closes the door behind them and then proceeds to carefully look around to be sure no one likely to overhear. Angel is just staring at her as she does this. She finally, looks at him and despite the expression on his face, starts right in:

Miranda: "So I was talking with a colleague, Samuel, who is..." (Angel interrupts)

Angel: "So Spike's your boyfriend—the non-human you've been dating."

Miranda: (a bit taken aback) "I thought we'd covered this. Yes. Now, Samuel thinks that..." (Angel interrupts again)

Angel: "Explain to me how dating Spike, a vampire, is a viable alternative to dating humans for someone like you?"

Miranda: (annoyed at his condescending tone) "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that you were a vampire."

Angel: "Yeah, but that's different. I don't kill people—I have a soul. I thought I'd explained that to you."

Miranda: "Spike doesn't kill people either. Beyond that, I don't really know what the whole 'soul' business is all about anyway."

Angel: "Right. Spike doesn't kill people (under his breath; "I wonder what kind of scam he's working"). Is that what he told you? Because he's about as evil and twisted as they come."

Miranda: "You know, he's been good to me and maybe that's all I care about right now."

Angel: "That's crap. You're not exactly his type—I mean, you're not like him. There's something else going on here."

Miranda: "Yeah, maybe there is, but I'm not going to stand here and justify myself to you and your condescending attitude—it's none of your bloody business who I choose to date, so bugger off."

Angel: (He pulls off her necklace to reveal the bite) "So what's that about then?"

Miranda: (furious now) "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just do that. Do you want to know what Samuel told me or not, because I'm getting very tired of this game."

He grabs her arm and pulls her a bit closer to him.

Miranda: "What are you doing? Feeling for pulse? (sarcastic) Yeah, I'm a vampire. That MUST be it. Did you or did you not see me wearing a cross pendant ALL WEEK?"

Angel: "But you haven't had that vamp hicky all week."

Miranda: (She knocks his hand away. She's extremely irritated, but knowing that he is not going to let this drop) "Fine. I let him bite me sometimes. So what?"

Angel: "Oh, this is getting better by the minute. You let him bite you? And yet you think he's not using you?"

Miranda: (His prudish attitude is making her take an alternative approach to explaining things to him) "Maybe that's what relationships are all about—using each other. Let me tell you, it's not all about him. He does things that make me feel very, very good and I return the favor—it's no different from other relationships in that regard. There's no one being taken advantage of here. And to be quite honest, I like it—adds another level of excitement to sex. Are we done?"

Angel: (He has no idea how to respond to this) "It's not right. This isn't like you. You're going to get hurt."

Miranda: (incredulous laugh). "Not like me? You know nothing about me. All you know is what I've shown you. (beat) I know why this upsets you so much—you're turned on by it. Would be the perfect situation for you now, wouldn't it? You get the biting without the death and the guilt that comes with it. You hate that you're excited by it because you hate anything related to the vampire inside you."

Angel: "You don't know what you're talking about. I would never..."

Before he can finish, she decides to zing him a bit because she's so pissed off. She bites her lip hard so that it bleeds and then kisses him on the lips. It's a malicious act on her part. She then quickly rushes back into the hall, leaving him stunned in the alley.

The evening continues. Spike has disappeared behind the scenes and Miranda is dutifully mingling. After a time, she spies Cordelia and Wesley rushing towards one of the back doors and can tell that something is up. She hasn't seen Angel since their interchange. A few minutes go by and none of them re-appear, so Miranda decides to have peek out back to see what's going on. She doesn't find them right away and is suddenly confronted with an agonizing pain in her gut—another Immortal is nearby. She heads in that direction, despite the absence of her sword and soon comes across what appears to be a standoff between Angel and the MoG. and another group of men. Two thugs have Gunn and Cordy and Angel has just been forced to drop his weapon—the air is very tense and it's obvious that someone is about to make a move. Miranda can see Wesley in the shadows. She confidently walks right into the 'fray' with a cigarette in hand.

Miranda: "Anyone have a light? I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

A man in a tuxedo walks towards her from out of the shadows. He's a solidly built man with black hair, brown eyes and an air of age—a tiredness, perhaps. He looks to be roughly in his early 40s and walks with a plodding confidence.

Man: "An...Miranda. (Smiling genuinely, he lights her cigarette) It's been a long time. Always a pleasure."

Miranda: (She takes the light and then greets him with a kiss on the cheek) "Joseph. Nice to see you. (She looks at him for a moment. A concerned look crosses her face) "You look tired. (He shrugs in acknowledgment) What's this all about, then?"

Joseph: "Nothing you need to concern yourself with. (The look on her face tells him she's not leaving without a bit more explanation) Just caught these mortals interfering with some business of mine. Nothing I can't handle."

Miranda: "Ah, but you see I am concerned. The big bloke over there is a friend of mine (indicating Angel) and the rest of them are friends of his. Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Joseph: (Looking to Angel and then back to Miranda. He obviously has a good deal of respect for her opinion) "Perhaps."

Miranda: "Let me introduce you. (She waves Angel over) "Joseph, this is Angel of Angel Investigations. He and his crew were hired to protect presumably whatever is in that case over there. Angel, this is Joseph—an old friend. (they shake hands) Joseph, why don't you explain what you're going to do with that." (indicating the case)

Joseph: "The items in that case were stolen from a very good friend of mine quite some time ago. As a personal favor, I am retrieving them."

Angel: "Without compensation."

Joseph: "I don't purchase stolen goods."

Angel: "And what does your friend intend on doing with them?"

Joseph bristles at Angel's tone; Miranda intercedes.

Miranda: "Apparently these items have a great deal of mystical power and in the wrong hands could cause quite a shake-up in the world. I believe Angel's main concern is that whoever ends up with them is not likely to engage these powers."

Joseph: "I suspect they will simply be displayed in his personal collection. He is a good man. Not the sort to engage in any kind of mysticism."

Angel: (glancing at Miranda) "Sometimes people aren't what they seem."

Joseph: "I know him. I'll give you my word that these things will be safely guarded in his care. If you'll take it, we can all go our separate ways without further incident."

He is not a man to give his word lightly and this is obvious from his demeanor.

Angel: "uh... (He looks at Miranda, who gives him an encouraging look) Ok."

At this, Joseph immediately give a nod to his 'muscle' to let Cordy and Gunn go. The men pick up the case and head off down the alley.

Joseph: (to Miranda) "I need to be on my way. It's a shame we didn't get a chance to talk. (turning to Angel) I apologize for the rough reception we gave your colleagues. Any friend of Miranda will get no trouble from me."

He holds out his hand to shake Angel's. He then turns to Miranda, gives out a short laugh and whispers something into her ear. In response, she gives him a forced little acknowledging smile—as if to say "ha ha, very funny. NOT (with eye roll)". He says goodbye, kisses her on the cheek and then walks away.

Angel: "What was that about?"

Miranda: "He just thinks its funny that your name is Angel. And not for the obvious reason that it's a rather unexpected sort of name for a hulking thick-necked bloke like yourself. Rather, he finds it humorous because that's what he used to call me. (explaining) The old Immortals—and when I say 'old' I mean it—have a habit of giving nicknames to the rest of us as a way to keep track, I guess. (rolling her eyes) We get no say in it. Anyway, they've taken to calling me 'Angel' because, well, there's probably a few reasons, none of which particularly compelling. Anyway, they know I don't like it, but they insist on using it just to take the piss—they find it very amusing. Oh, no offense, but it's just such a girlie name. (catching herself) For a girl, I mean."

At this point, the rest of the crew is gathered around them and all start talking at once to Angel and each other. Miranda uses the opportunity to slip away.

Gunn: "So what's the plan? Slip around the block and cut them off?"

Angel: "We're going to let them go."

He's feeling his neck with his hand.

Cordelia: "That's nice. And what are we going to tell our PAYING employer? Some guy in a tux gave us his word, so we let the nice men take the case? (resigned) We're never going to get paid, are we?"

Angel: "It's fine. We were hired to be sure that the case didn't end up in the wrong hands—we kept it away from Wolfram and Hart, so I would say we did OK. (to no one in particular) Would you say I have a thick neck?"

End Scene.


	7. Chapter 7

Scene 4

Spike and Miranda are back in Sunnydale.

Buffy and Spike are on their way somewhere (either going to or heading back from patrolling) and are walking down a street in town that has restaurants and shops. Things are still awkward between them—Buffy still just doesn't know how to act around Spike, now that he's dating one of her good friends—it's just too weird and she is suspicious of the whole thing anyway (still thinks somehow that it's a ploy to make her jealous) and so never actually mentions Miranda when they're together. Pretty much the entire Scoobie gang is behaving this way—total denial/lack of acknowledgement that M & S have a 'real' relationship. Spike still has residual feelings for Buffy, which he mostly ignores, but it's enough to make him feel somewhat uncomfortable when they're together and therefore he is as unlikely as she is to bring up Miranda. Anyway, they've mostly done what they set out to do—one more quick stop left to check out something in town that Giles had told them about and then they'll go their separate ways. Spike decides to break the awkward silence with a little chit-chat.

Spike: "Aren't you going to ask?"

Buffy: "Ask what?"

Spike: "Where we were last week?"

Buffy: "You were gone?"

Spike: "Had a nice little mini-break in L.A."

Buffy: (the mention of L.A. has an immediate effect, but she hides her reaction) "First, why would I care and second, who goes to L.A. for a vacation?"

Spike: "Antique dealers, apparently. Miranda had a thing. You'll never guess who we ran in to."

Buffy: (Crap. Her heart beats fast as a million things run through her mind about what might have gone on. She stops walking and turns to him) "I'd guess you're going to tell me."

Spike: (sensing her agitation and getting a mild thrill out of her actually paying attention to him for once) Your brooding and ever-pleasant ex. He's gotten a bit puffy since the last time I saw him—virtually lost his neck entirely. Don't worry, slayer, I behaved myself."

Buffy: "Too bad _he_ did." (She starts walking again).

Spike: (ouch) "Wicked girl. Tell me, why am I here? Oh, right, I remember now...because you _asked_ for my help"

Buffy: (only a touch of sincerity) "Sorry, the words just slipped out."

He's about to say more, but he catches a glimpse of something in the window of a restaurant they're walking by and stops to look more closely.

Buffy: "What?" (Spike doesn't answer, so Buffy walks back to where he's looking. There, in the restaurant, is Miranda, eating dinner with a man. Buffy doesn't say anything and starts to walk) You coming?"

Spike doesn't really want to say anything either—he's shocked, but he also isn't sure he wants to make a thing about it in front of Buffy—he is well aware that none of the scoobies think Miranda actually cares much about him and he would rather not bring attention to the fact that there she is, out with another guy. He takes a few tentative steps to follow Buffy with a very confused look on his face and then stops. He can't hold it in.

Spike: "That was Miranda back there."

Buffy: "Yep"

Spike: "Once again, out with someone we don't know."

Buffy: "Looks like it."

Spike: (to himself) "Perfect bloody timing, innit?" (to Buffy) "Just on the off chance that I'm missing something here, having not exactly dated in the human realm since, well, never, am I right in thinking that what we just saw would normally not be considered acceptable girlfriend behavior?"

Buffy: "Depends."

Spike: "On?"

Buffy: "Well, whether it's actually a date or not. What did she say she was doing for dinner?"

Spike: "I don't know—We don't really do food. What difference does it make?"

Buffy: "There are potentially acceptable circumstances."

Spike: "So what you're saying is that walking in there and ripping his head off may not be the right way to go?"

Buffy: "No. Definitely no ripping of heads—besides, he's probably human."

Spike: (annoyed) "Thanks for reminding me. (Grabbing her arm and pulling her back to where they can see in the window) Well, do your 'bird telepathy-signal' thing that you go on about."

Buffy: (Annoyed at being pulled around, but mildly curious to see what Miranda is up to. She takes a look) "Ooh, not looking good for you, Spike. Expensive dress, hair up, polished nails—flowers on the table. And she looks completely relaxed. Could be a date."

Spike: "Right then. I'm going in."

Buffy: (grabbing his arm) "You can't just barge in there. I mean, have you guys even had 'the talk'?"

Spike: "What talk?"

Buffy: "You know, the 'we're not going to see other people' talk—because unless you've had 'the talk' you're technically not cleared for violence of any kind in this situation."

Spike: "What kind of bollocks is that?"

Buffy: "Hey, I don't make the rules"

Spike: "Luckily, I don't follow 'em anyway." (He heads toward the entrance to the restaurant.)

Backup a few minutes; perspective is now at the table of the restaurant where Miranda and her date are having dinner. It's a very posh restaurant—unusual for California, it is obvious that there is a dress code. The gentleman she is eating with is in his late 30s/early 40s and is decidedly average looking and a bit on the portly side.

Date: "This vintage is superb—It makes all the difference for this dish. One sip, followed by a mouthful of the lamb and it simply transcends anything I've had before. Would you like to try it?"

Miranda: "ooh, I'd love to. (She takes a sip of the wine and then a forkful off the lamb.) You're absolutely right. I wasn't impressed when it first arrived, but with the lamb, I haven't tasted anything better. You say you have this vintage in your cellar?"

Date: "Yes. I was lucky enough to secure 6 bottles on my last trip to France. One of these days, you'll have to let me fix you dinner—who am I kidding? You'll have to let my chef fix you dinner at my house. I might be persuaded to open another bottle."

Miranda: "We'll see. I like to explore the local restaurants when I move to a new area—I've got plenty more to try! (conspiratorially) Shall we get something else to go with dessert?"

Date: "Dessert? You have quite an appetite—it's simply delightful to have found a partner in crime when it comes to culinary overindulgence."

Just then Spike blasts past the hostess and arrives at the table; he turns a chair around and sits down straddling it, facing them and says casually,

Spike: "Enjoying your dinner, I hope. (As he grabs the wine bottle sitting on the table) Do you mind? (He takes a swig from the bottle) Not bad. Not bad. Prefer something a bit more metallic, myself."

Miranda can't help but laugh a bit at this. Her date is shocked and flustered.

Date: "Can we help you with something?"

Spike: "Aren't you going to introduce me to your date, Miranda?"

Date: "Miranda, would you like me to call the police?" (He pulls out his cell phone.)

Spike: (grabbing the phone) "Amazing how small these things are." (He crushes it to bits in his hand.)

Miranda: "It's alright David. Spike, perhaps you'd like to step outside with me for a moment." (she stands up)

Spike: "Maybe. Maybe. Will you excuse us, Orson?"

Miranda leads him out the back door, shooting apologetic looks to the hostess.

Miranda: (angry) "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Spike: "Me? What am _I _doing? You're the one out on a date."

Miranda: "So?"

Spike: "So? Forgive me if I find it a tad bit off to find my girlfriend out on a date with another bloke."

Miranda: (dismissive) "Oh, but David is perfectly harmless."

Spike: "What, are you still mad with me about the thing in LA? Is that what this is about?"

Miranda: "What? (honestly surprised) No. Of course not. I wouldn't go out on a date just because I was angry."

Spike: "Which leads us to...what the hell are you doing here with that overgrown stuffed shirt? Is it a date or isn't it?"

Miranda: "No. Well, yes. But of course I'd never let him near me. He'll be lucky to get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night and that's only if he behaves himself. Listen, I'm here with him because I was in the mood for a nice meal at a nice restaurant. He comes into the shop now and again. We talk about food and wine and other such things and he asked me to dinner. I didn't see the harm."

Spike: "And I can't take you to places like this, is that it?"

Miranda: "Spike, you're not listening. It has nothing to do with you. Food is a kind of a...(pause, what's a good word for it?)...hobby for me—I take a great deal of pleasure from it. And, really, appreciating a good meal is something that you simply can't share with me for obvious reasons and that's fine, but it doesn't mean I should have to give it up entirely."

Spike: "You could eat alone."

Miranda: "It's not the same and you know it. Like I said, it will go no further with David or anyone else."

Spike: "But he doesn't know that, does he? I mean, look at you in your sexy dress with your breasts all hiked up and the hair and the perfume—there's no way Shamu is interested only in your taste buds when you look like that."

Miranda: "So it would be Ok if I went out with Sh...David or someone else if I wore a frumpy dress."

Spike: (considering) "No. You'd look too sexy in a bloody burlap sack."

Miranda: (despite herself, she can't help taking a bit of pleasure in the compliment) "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"

Spike: "Shouldn't it?"

Miranda: "It should _not_. And might I ask how you came to be in this neighborhood in the first place? (a bit concerned) You weren't following me..."

Spike: (angry at the implication) "I'm not a bloody stalker—I've got other things to do with my time. I was patrolling with Buffy."

Miranda: (indignant) "Oh is that all? Well then! Just spending the evening traipsing around in the dark with the woman you've admitted to recently being in love with. And here you are giving me a hard time about being out with David, who is practically the poster child for celibacy."

Spike: (this takes him a bit by surprise, but after a moment he gets it) "I see what you're trying to do—it's not going to work."

Miranda: (continuing as if he hadn't said anything; sort of tongue-in-cheek, but with mock seriousness) "I mean look at you in your new pants and your sexy fitted shirt—that is so NOT a patrolling shirt—and is that cologne I smell?" (pretends to sniff him) And don't even get me started on the coat." (By this time she can't hold back a smile and a bit of a laugh. And he's smiling, too.)

Spike: (playing along) "Yeah, laugh all you want. You _should_ be jealous. I looked so good tonight, Buffy was this close to abandoning her whole world view and hero sensibility for a quick shag behind the 7-eleven."

Miranda: "No doubt. Back to reality for a moment, perhaps we should, you know, talk about this."

Spike: (the word 'talk' makes him bristle slightly, as it does all men) "Talk. Uh yeah."

Miranda: "So. Does this mean that you'd like me not to see any other men at all. Just you."

Spike: (Thinking about this for a moment) "Well, yeah. I mean, no—no other men; (pause) or vampires; or demons of any kind."

Miranda: "And the same goes for you?"

Spike: (thinking—not wanting to get caught out) "Sure. (smiling) But to be fair, I suppose we should exclude women as well as it hardly would seem a sacrifice otherwise."

Miranda: "Alright then"

Spike: "So that's it?"

Miranda: "That's it."

Spike: "Not as bad as I was expecting—don't know what those talk show buggers are on about all the time. Still, there is a certain simplicity in the way vampires usually go about this sort of thing—someone gets bitten, someone crawls out of a grave and pretty much you go straight to sharing a crypt."

Miranda: (smiling) "I suppose I should send David on his way."

Spike: "You can finish your dinner if you like. (He lets his gaze slowly move from her face downward to the rest of her body) S'long as you promise to keep that dress on when you come over later."

Miranda: "If you put on some cologne, it's a deal. But one more thing: What about women? I.e. having dinner with."

Spike: (mock contemplation) "Ok. But no lesbians. (pause) And you have to wear burlap."

End Scene.

Scene 5

A week or two later. Outside Miranda's apartment building. Spike is pressing the buzzer to her apartment. Nothing happens. He presses again and still nothing. He's about to ring again, when someone comes out and lets him in. He walks up to her door and knocks. There's no answer, so he knocks again louder and calls her name. Still nothing.

Spike: (under his breath) "Bet she's got those bloody headphones on again—shoulda just let the neighbors complain."

He leaves and walks to a payphone across the street and calls her number—the answering machine picks up. He goes back to her apartment and knocks again—very loudly this time. This provokes a neighbor (young and friendly girl) to peek her head out the door.

Neighbor: "What's all the noise about?"

Spike: "Miranda's got those bloody headphones on again and she can't hear anything."

Neighbor: "You mean these headphones? (She produces a very nice set of headphones—the substantial kind that cover your ears entirely) I borrowed 'em from her last weekend. (snarky) Do ya' think that she might just not be home?"

This results in a scowl from Spike and the young woman puts the headphones on and shuts the door.

Spike: (looking a bit concerned; knocking again) "Miranda?" (He thinks of something and searches in his pockets. He pulls out an implement and starts to jimmie the lock. He gets it, turns the handle, but when he goes to push open the door, it won't budge—he notices the dead bolt.) "I know you're in there—it's a vampire thing. You alright?" (still nothing) "Miranda! If you don't answer me, I'll break down the door."

Switch perspective. We're now in Miranda's apartment. Miranda is sitting on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. She looks like hell—her eyes are red and puffy from crying, her hair is unbrushed and scraggly and she's very pale. Her sword is carefully placed just next to her—more like a source of comfort than a weapon. On the coffee table sits an unopened bottle of scotch and an unfolded, but then untouched packet of little blue pills. Her eyes are at once terrified and distant—as if her mind is somewhere else. We hear what she hears, which is a very muffled version of the noise of the door being pounded and Spike's voice—she hears something but her mind is not in a state to process it, so she doesn't move. After more pounding, she finally reacts when Spike says that he will break down the door. Like someone who has a terrible headache and doesn't want to make any unnecessary movements, she gets up and walks toward the door. Her gaze is fixed on nothing. When she gets to the door, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath—it's as if one small part of her has come back to consciousness, while the rest of her is elsewhere. With all the strength she has, she speaks to the door:

Miranda: "I can't see you tonight Spike. I'm sorry." As soon as she finished saying this, she drifts out again and stares into space.

Spike: "What's wrong? Are you sick? (no response) Miranda? (pause) Miranda!"

Miranda: (still in a dreamy kind of voice) "I can't see you. Please come back tomorrow." (She starts to move slowly back to the couch.)

Spike: "Come on, Miranda. Open the door at least—let me see you're alright. (no response; he pounds again on the door; thinking of another approach) I brought ice cream (he hasn't); it's your favorite—the kind with the cherries in. (No response; he can sense that something is very wrong; back to frustration) Just open the door. I promise I'll go away if you just let me see you. (nothing) (anger now) Miranda! If you don't open the door, I'll break it down and your landlord won't be too happy about that now, will he?"

He detects movement towards the door. After a moment, the door opens just the length of the chain. When he sees her, she's looking down.

Miranda: "Please Spike. I'll see you tomorrow."

Spike: "Look at me." (After a moment, she moves her eyes up to his; seeing him actually appears to break her out of her haze for a moment and her expression comes alive) You've been crying."

Miranda: "Please. I...I'm just...dealing with something. I want to be alone."

Spike: "What's wrong?"

Miranda: "I can't...there are things...just things, OK? . I'm no company tonight. I won't be angry that you didn't stay. I'll be fine tomorrow...or the next day. (seeing his confused look) I don't expect...I don't expect you to be _that_ kind of boyfriend."

Spike: (a bit hurt) "What kind is that then?"

Miranda: "Just go. You said you'd go if I opened the door."

She's drifting off again. As if there is a memory that takes over her senses and draws her in as she relives it. She scrunches up her eyes as if cowering from something and the tears start to flow. She closes the door and moves back toward the couch to take up her former position. Before she gets there, her eye catches sight of a piece of paper sitting on the coffee table—the sight of it causes her to get a look of panic. She quickly turns back to the door and opens it. Spike is leaning against the wall, obviously trying to decide what to do.

Miranda: "Do you have--could I borrow your lighter?"

Spike: "Can I come inside?" (She nods and unlatches the door, still looking like a frightened rabbit. She takes a couple of steps in the direction of the couch, then stops; her eyes cast down, she keeps the sheet of paper that is on the coffee table in her peripheral vision. As before, her mind seems to float in and out. Spike reaches for her hands and when he touches them.) "Your hands are shaking."

Miranda: (Pulling her hands away and shooting a glance at the coffee table, she says in a voice with a touch of panic) "Lighter?"

He fishes in his coat for the lighter and hands it to her. She takes another couple of steps toward the couch, then stops and tries to use the lighter. Spike thinks she wants to smoke, so he pulls out a cigarette and offers it to her. She ignores it. Her hands are shaking so much that she can't get a flame. She starts getting very panicky and then stops and takes in a breath as if to calm herself.

Spike: (He walks over to her and takes the lighter from her hands) "What are you trying to do, love? Tell me and I'll do it for you."

Miranda: (She seems to have calmed herself down a bit—her breathing has settled and she walks to the couch and sits back down in the position she was in before. She puts her hand around the handle of her sword and grips it—this calms her further. She stares at the piece of paper and says without looking up, in a labored voice) "That piece of paper, there. Could you burn it for me?"

Spike: (He's completely confused by her behavior—he's never seen her like this—terrified—of something. He walks over to the table and grabs the paper—she flinches and then watches him look at it. Through his eyes, we see a sketch of a man's face—very close up so that you only really see his eyes, nose and mouth. He's dark and stern—the eyes are drawn in more detail than any other feature.) "Did you draw this?"

Miranda: (She nods; more tears are streaming down and she's rocking a bit, hugging her knees tightly into her chest. Spike looks back to the picture and studies it. She watches him and after a moment in a very meek voice says) "Lighter?"

Spike: (He takes the lighter and easily gets a flame and lights the corner of the drawing. When the flame gets close to his hand, he sets it down on the table. Miranda's eyes follow it intently as it burns down. Spike sits down next her and touches her hair) "All gone. (after a pause) Did he hurt you?" (She just looks at him for a moment and turns her head away. It's obvious that the answer is yes. She actually already appears a bit better—at least it seems that she is all there now. Spike's tone is calm and very serious) Just tell me where he is and I'll take care of it."

Miranda: (Still snapping out of it, she looks confused (by what he said?) for a moment as she looks at Spike) "Already dead. Long ago. (pause) I killed him."

Spike: (confused) "Oh. There's a twist. So what's the problem?"

Miranda: "A dream. Last night. I think it was last night—what day is it? He was there. I couldn't move. He was coming for me. (She closes her eyes tightly as she remembers and she's getting upset again. She snaps out for a moment, opens her eyes and looks at Spike) I should've been able to fight him. This time. I had my sword. Different from before. But I couldn't move. And he was coming closer and closer and I couldn't move—something was stopping me."

She's crying and obviously terrified. She reaches out to grab her sword again, but this time misses the handle and grips the blade, cutting herself. She doesn't flinch.

Spike: (softly, he moves to put his arms around her) "It was just a dream, love. You said yourself—he's dead—he can't hurt you now."

Miranda: (pulling away slightly and sounding a wee bit hysterical) "But...but what if he wasn't human? I come here and there's all these things that don't really die when they should and what if he wasn't dead when I left him?"

Spike: (confidently) "Then if he comes by, I'll rip him to pieces. I'll kill him. That's where I can help you most, if he's not human. No need to worry, I'd take care of it. (looking at her tenderly) God, what did he do to you?"

He can't get over how terrified she is—she didn't seem to be the type to really FEAR anything—especially not a mortal.

Miranda: (At this Miranda starts to shake again and get that far off look) "No...no...no...no. Can't say. Won't remember. No..."

Spike: "It's OK, it's OK—don't tell me. (He lifts up her face so she can see him) "It'll be OK."

She continues to cry for a moment and then she appears to think of something and starts to pull out of it again. She wipes the tears away and suddenly seems more lucid.

Miranda: "You'd just do that? Without knowing any more—you'd kill him?"

Spike: "Sure. 'know what he looks like—what else would I need to know?"

Miranda: (She takes this in for a moment, processing.) "You _could_ kill him. You could protect me (she says these words as if this is a completely new concept for her). I...I've never been with someone who...I'm always the one 'protecting'...or alone. (She looks at Spike, seeing him clearly for the first time since he came in—this seems to calm her instantly. She must have been shivering, because now she now seems distinctly still. She puts her hand out to touch him, as if to make sure he's really there. He gently pulls her closer and she rests her head on his chest and takes a deep breath) And if you didn't get there in time—you'd look for me? You'd find me?"

Spike: "Yeah, love. No worries."

After a few moments resting there with his arms around her, she sits up and gives him a small smile, then grabs a tissue.

Miranda: (quietly) "I think I could use that cigarette now."

Spike: (lighting one and handing it to her) "Welcome back—thought I'd lost you for a minute there."

Miranda: (a touch of embarrassment) "The dream was so real—I don't know that I've ever felt that kind of panic—couldn't pull out of it. It's been such a long time since...(shakes her head. Suddenly wanting to change the subject) Didn't you say something about ice cream?"

Spike: "It was just a ploy to get inside. Couldn't bear to miss this barrel of laughs."

Miranda: (She throws a tissue at him) "I'd like to state for the record that if I had been in my right mind, I wouldn't have let you in and subjected you to this pathetic spectacle. I hate that you've seen me like this."

Spike: "You do look pretty crap."

Miranda: "Thought you might find the 'death' look appealing. (beat) And that's not what I meant."

Spike: (giving her a 'duh', I know that's not what you meant look, but continuing to lighten the mood) "Sure, you've got the pasty white skin, but then there's the red, puffy eyes and the greasy hair—ruins the look entirely."

Miranda: (She smiles and blots her eyes with a tissue) "Do vampires cry?"

Spike: "Yeah, sure. (pause) Not often. (trying to remember) Pretty rarely."

Miranda: "You realize you're dating a woman who has lived for 140 years—I've got a hell of a lot of baggage. Don't tell Buffy and the others, but I'm actually kind of messed up."

Spike: "Secret's safe with me."

Miranda: "I'm just saying—you don't want to go opening too many doors."

Spike: "What, and be _that_ kind of boyfriend?"

Miranda: (pause) "Want to take a walk? I'd like to show you something."

Miranda takes Spike to the house she has just acquired—she is having it refurbished. It's an old, stone house—VERY unusual for California and a bit English in appearance—it has an enclosed garden. It's a mess now from the construction, but should be ready in a week or two. It belonged to an old witch. Many years ago, she had made a deal in which she paid cash for the house in advance. The house is then turned over to Miranda after the death of the original owner. Miranda has entered into such arrangements with a variety of old houses (and their slightly out-of-the-ordinary owners) that she fancies across the US and this one came up at about the right time—it's why she picked Sunnydale in the first place.

End Scene.

Scene 6

Miranda's new house, a couple of weeks later. There is a moving truck parked outside and all the scoobies are carrying boxes into the house—it is just before dusk, so no Spike. Miranda is in the front room nearest the door, directing the flow of boxes to the appropriate rooms.

(Author's note: I'm going to keep the dialog to a minimum in this scene, so use your imagination for the witty 'moving in' banter. I will simply skip to the more interesting parts.)

Miranda: "Master bedroom, downstairs; Spare room, upstairs; kitchen—well, in the kitchen, this floor; everything else should be fairly self explanatory. I can't thank you all enough for helping out—I just don't trust movers. I promise to cook you all a fabulous meal once I've unpacked."

Willow: "This is a beautiful house. I remember being terrified by it as a kid—some creepy old lady lived here."

Xander: "Ah, Old Mrs. Trebert. Everyone said she was a witch."

Willow: "Xander! Kids only said that because she was old and kind of spooky and lived alone—I'm sure she wasn't _really_ a witch."

Tara: "We know better now—witches aren't ugly old women—(looking at Willow)—sometimes they're beautiful and hip."

Miranda: "Oh, she most definitely _was_ a witch. And an ornery one at that. Thought she'd live forever!"

Willow: "Oh."

More moving of boxes. Buffy is carrying a box of papers without a lid on it and she trips slightly and a couple of the things on top fall out. As she is putting the papers back in the box, she finds the Angel Investigations card, with a phone number handwritten on the back.

Buffy: "Where'd you get this?"

Miranda: (squinting to see what she's holding) "Oh, right. They were in charge of security—sort of—at the antique forum in LA a few weeks ago."

Buffy: "So you met Angel?"

Miranda: "Yes. Worked with him quite a bit that week—nice fellow, actually. I think he quite fancied me. Left me his cell phone number. I was a bit of a pill to him, though, in the end. Why, do you know him?"

Buffy: "Spike didn't tell you?"

Miranda: "It was obvious there was bad blood between them (so to speak), but he didn't tell me why exactly and he didn't mention you."

Willow: (trying to save Buffy from explaining) "Buffy and Angel...uh."

Xander: "Had a thing a while back."

Willow: "Yeah, a thing."

Anya: "A _huge_ thing. A first love/love-of-a-lifetime, earth shattering, heart wrenching kind of thing. Well, until he left her"

Xander: "Anya!"

Buffy: "It's OK. Nutshell versions aren't my favorite, but they give the gist."

Willow: "There's a lot of history between them."

Miranda: (A slight contemplative frown as she puts things together) "I had no idea. (Doesn't know exactly what to say in response to the emotion/tension floating around the room) Sorry. (?)"

Buffy: "No, it's ok. Things are fine between us. Everything's worked out for the best." (not entirely convincing)

A few minutes go by as they're looking in boxes to determine where things should go. Some 'looks' are passed between B/W/X and they whisper to each other—we can't hear. After a moment.

Buffy: "Maybe you should call him."

Miranda: "What?"

Buffy: "I just think, maybe, you might get along. He may be the right kind of guy for you."

Willow: (finishing the thought) "So maybe you should give him a call."

Miranda: (She absolutely can't believe what she's hearing) "Ok, newsflash for all of you who haven't been paying attention for the past month, I HAVE A BOYFRIEND."

Xander: "We've noticed that you have something with Spike. And I'm not one to say that you shouldn't get your jollies anyway you want to, but..."

Willow: (interrupting) "Xander, "jollies"? What he's trying to say is why not keep your options open—you never know what could happen."

Buffy: "Angel's special; he's a great guy."

Miranda: (indignant) "You've all discussed this?"

Xander: "We just think you deserve better."

Miranda: (mixture of annoyance & confusion) "So a different vampire is exactly what I need, is that it?"

Willow: "Angel's different—he has a soul. He's a _good_ guy."

Miranda: (Steaming with anger now—you can tell there has been a lot brewing beneath the surface. She's ready to RANT) "What does that mean, exactly? Everyone keeps saying that, but what does it MEAN? Do I have a soul? You appear to think so, but do you know for sure that I do? I don't know. You've seen what happens to Immortals when they die—whatever's inside them gets sucked into the one who killed them. Is that the 'soul'? Do I have all the 'souls' of all the Immortals I've killed just hanging about inside me? Is that what will happen to me? Or is it something else? Before, I always thought talk of 'souls' was metaphorical, but you people discuss it as if it were a tangible thing."

Buffy: "It is a real thing and it's something Spike doesn't have and that's why he can never be like us."

Miranda: "And that's the point, then. To be like us. One thing I know for certain is that over the years I have witnessed remarkable acts of cruelty committed by those with souls—those like us. So I for one am not willing to draw the line so firmly."

Buffy: "You're not being rational about this."

Miranda: "Maybe not, but I don't wish to discuss it anymore. Suffice it to say that I don't have something with Spike, I have a relationship with him—would it kill you all to acknowledge that just once. I'm not blind to what's going on. Ignoring it won't make it go away. I just wish you could accept it and maybe even be civil to him once in a while. The way you treat him is just appalling—after all he does for you. Regardless of your opinion of him, the fact that he is my boyfriend and you are my friends should lead you to at least be polite when we're together. In fact, I don't know if I can take much more of your little comments to me and your little insults to him—if you are incapable of civility, then perhaps we shouldn't be friends."

Anya: "I can be civil—Xander's been teaching me all about how to be fake."

Miranda: "Thank you, Anya. That means a lot" (Anya smiles proudly)

Xander: "But it's Spike. He couldn't care less what we say to him."

Miranda: (shrugging) "Maybe you're right. But I care."

Willow: "And as for the 'all he does for you part', you kinda came in after the multiple years of his trying to kill Buffy and plotting against all of us. He almost bit me. Twice."

Buffy: "And what's with the emphasis on "boyfriend" in all of this—maybe you should call it what it is."

Miranda: (livid) "For your information, I was planning on asking him to move in here with me, so if you'd prefer 'live-in lover', I'd be happy to oblige."

At this, we get an outburst of balking laughter.

Buffy: "You're kidding, right? Ha ha, I get your point. If it's that important to you, I suppose..."

Miranda: "But I'm not kidding. He lives in a crypt. It's not as if we spend much time there anyway. It makes perfect sense."

Xander: "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard; you can't be serious. Can she be serious?"

Miranda: "And why do you think I had them convert the basement to a master bedroom?"

Willow: "I thought maybe you just liked to sleep in."

Buffy: "Oh my God, you are SO living in an alternate reality. What, you're going to keep him here like some exotic pet? He's a vampire; vampires don't live in houses."

Willow: "Castles, maybe, but definitely not houses."

Buffy: "You can't just turn him into a man by treating him like one and pretending that he is. Let's not even focus on the you wanting to live with a vampire part for a moment; Do you really think he'd go for it? He's not exactly what I'd call the domestic type."

Miranda: (Pouting for a moment—this hadn't actually occurred to her (that he might not want to move in)) "He might."

Xander: "He is _so _not going to give up his crypt—you may be confused about what he is, but I think he's actually pretty clear on it. It's a silly, silly, idea. If it weren't so wrong, it would be kinda funny. (Thinking about it for a moment) You're welcome-mat could say 'bugger-off' and..."

Buffy: (to Miranda) "I wouldn't go there."

Just as she says this, Spike walks through the door.

Spike: "Go where? (not waiting for an answer) Not L.A., I hope. Hate that place—bad luck or something always. So did I miss it all?

Miranda: (Thank goodness! She's obviously pleased to see him) "No such luck. We saved you the biggest pieces."

Spike: "Brilliant—ever consider that you've got too many things?"

Anya: (Overly enthusiastic with a little wave) "Hi Spike. (Pause because she can't think of anything else to say) Miranda has something she wants to ask you." (They all glare at Anya; she responds defensively) "What? I can't wait."

Spike: (Taken aback by Anya's greeting—confused frown. He can tell that something is up by the way everyone is stiff and quiet. He turns to Miranda in anticipation) "What is it?"

Miranda: (Though initially annoyed at being pushed into this, she figures, 'what the hell'?) "I hadn't intended on being so public about it, but uh, I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to move in here with me. Of course, you could have your own room--if you wanted--for privacy." (she holds her breath)

They're all doing a bad job pretending not to be listening intently. Spike can tell that this is probably what caused the tension in the room when he came in.

Spike: "Can I smoke? (She nods; they pass a look between them—it's a 'we can work out the details later' look) Yeah, all right. Was wondering when you'd get 'round to asking—I mean, why else would you put the bedroom in the basement?"

Miranda shoots a look to X/W. Spike turns to leave.

Miranda: "Where are you going?"

Spike: "Should get started packing up my things."

He leaves. Everyone is quietly shocked.

Miranda: "So, what do you say to giving 'civility' a revisit?"

They shrug in agreement, knowing that they'll be talking about what just happened a bit later.

End Scene.

Part 3

Scene 1

About a week or two later. The Bronze. We're looking in from a back door, seeing the perspective of someone scanning the room—it's crowded. We hear a familiar voice speaking.

Drusilla: "Don't worry sweet. I'll find her. It'll be easy—like a needle in a haystack. Always loved that game."

The perspective changes and we see her step through the doorway and walk slowly into the bar, but we don't see who she's talking to. Next we see Miranda sitting at a table near the bar, by herself. She's just ordered a drink and is checking her watch. She's dressed to go out and has a look of anticipation. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Dru is standing in front of her.

Drusilla: "You're a pretty piece of flesh, aren't you?"

Miranda: (A bit freaked out by loopy girl) "Do I know you?"

Drusilla: "What will he say when he can't find you...will he know I've been a naughty girl?"

Miranda: "Can I help you with something? Perhaps a cup of coffee. Or a trip to the psych ward. And what the hell kind of accent_ is _that?"

Drusilla: "Thought he could hide it, he did. But he can't hide anything from me. D'you know how I knew you? He smells like you from the inside."

Miranda: (It's suddenly dawning on her) "Drusilla?"

Drusilla: (crazy laugh) "He didn't tell you, did he? Naughty Spike. Hiding things. (leaning in and whispering) I know your secret."

Miranda: "Is this some sort of jealousy thing, because..."

Drusilla: "He's a smart one, my Spike. He'll be cross that I stole his gem. But he'll forgive me. Always does."

Miranda: "What do you want?"

Dru just smiles and starts to move away—seems to disappear into the crowd. Miranda is a bit freaked out. She scans the bar. She decides to call the house to see if Spike has left yet, but finds that she's left her cell phone in the shop. She gets up to find a pay phone.

Fast forward an hour. We're back in the Bronze. Now we see Spike sitting at the bar with a beer, scanning the dance floor. He asks the bartender what time it is. He frowns and orders another drink.

tbc...


	8. Chapter 8 begin Part 3

P art 3

(Last part of previous chapter repeated.)

Scene 1

About a week or two later. The Bronze. We're looking in from a back door (?), seeing the perspective of someone scanning the room—it's crowded. We hear a familiar voice speaking.

Drusilla: "Don't worry sweet. I'll find her. It'll be easy—like a needle in a haystack. Always loved that game."

The perspective changes and we see her step through the doorway and walk slowly into the bar, but we don't see who she's talking to. Next we see Miranda sitting at a table near the bar, by herself. She's just ordered a drink and is checking her watch. She's dressed to go out and has a look of anticipation. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Dru is standing in front of her.

Drusilla: "You're a pretty piece of flesh, aren't you?"

Miranda: (a bit freaked out by loopy girl) "Do I know you?"

Drusilla: "What will he say when he can't find you...will he know I've been a naughty girl?"

Miranda: "Can I help you with something? Perhaps a cup of coffee. Or a trip to the psych ward. And what the hell kind of accent _is _that?"

Drusilla: "Thought he could hide it, he did. But he can't hide anything from me. D'you know how I knew you? He smells like you from the inside."

Miranda: (it's suddenly dawning on her) "Drusilla?"

Drusilla: (crazy laugh) "He didn't tell you, did he? Naughty Spike. Hiding things. (leaning in and whispering) I know your secret."

Miranda: "Is this some sort of jealousy thing, because..."

Drusilla: "He's a smart one, my Spike. He'll be cross that I stole his gem. But he'll forgive me. Always does."

Miranda: "What do you want?"

Dru just smiles and starts to move away—seems to disappear into the crowd. Miranda is a bit freaked out. She scans the bar. She decides to call the house to see if Spike has left yet, but finds that she's left her cell phone in the shop. She gets up to find a pay phone.

Fast forward an hour. We're back in the bronze. Now we see Spike sitting at the bar with a beer, scanning the dance floor. He asks the bartender what time it is. He frowns and orders another drink.

Later that night—nearing sunrise. Buffy's house.

Loud knocking on the door. The house stirs. Xander and Anya are asleep on the couch. Buffy rubs her eyes as she sleepily walks downstairs. As she does so, an alarm goes off near Xander's head and he tumbles off the couch as he jumps at the sound. More loud knocking.

Buffy: (bleary eyed) "I thought we weren't getting up until 5:30; what's with the knocking?"

Xander: "uh, I think that's the door. And we have to get an early start if we're going to make it to San Francisco by this afternoon."

Buffy: "Whatever. I can sleep in the car, right?"

Xander: "What? No. It's a road trip—it's your job to keep me entertained."

Anya: "But not in the way that _I_ keep you entertained in the car, right Xander?"

Xander: "Uh, no; I'm thinking more witty conversation and maybe some showtunes. Aren't you going to see who's at the door?"

Buffy: "The door. Right. Who could be stopping by—just about everyone we know is either out-of-town or in this house."

She opens the door. It's Spike, looking a frazzled. He walks right in.

Spike: "Oh, so this is where you all are. Good. Miranda's gone missing—it's almost daylight, so I thought you could help out with the day shift."

Buffy: "Woh. Slow down—it's, like, far too early to process more than a couple of words at a time. Define 'missing'."

Spike: "We were supposed to meet at the Bronze at 11 and she never showed. She's not at the house or the shop and I've poked my head in every bar in town."

Xander: "Did it occur to you that she may have just suddenly come to her senses and decided to skip town to get away from you?"

Spike: (Look with daggers directed to Xander, but he leaves it alone.) "Her car is still parked behind the shop."

Buffy: "Maybe there was just some emergency—something antique-y. She's only been gone a few hours."

Spike: (dead serious) "She's missing. Let's mobilize the powder-puff gang and go find her, right?"

Buffy: "Sorry Spike. We can't help—we're on our way out of town. Xander is driving me and Dawn to San Francisco to meet our dad—we'll be gone a few days."

Spike: "What about Giles and the birds?"

Buffy: "Giles is in England and Willow and Tara are at some witch thing in the desert."

Spike: "So postpone your trip. I need your help to find her."

Buffy: "I can't do that. We have to go—Dawn needs this."

Spike: (sarcasm) "I'm sorry, I thought Miranda was your friend. And, I don't know, usually when one of you lot disappears, you come bursting through my front door insisting on my help within seconds."

Buffy: "Miranda _is_ our friend. But she's also Immortal—I don't know why you're so worried. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Xander: "He's just worried he's lost his meal ticket."

Spike takes a glass and throws it hard against the wall right next to Xander's head.

Buffy: "I think you should leave now."

Spike: (complete frustration) "You _bitch_. I can't believe you won't help me with this."

Buffy: (sincere) "I really am sorry—if we weren't leaving town..."

Spike: "ah, sod off. Find her myself." (He starts to walk out the door.)

Anya: "Spike, wait. I'll help. I'm watching the magic shop while Giles is away, so I've got nothing better to do."

Spike just gives her a nod and continues to scowl at the rest of them.

Xander: "You don't have to do that, honey—won't you be busy making money at the shop?"

Buffy: "I think it's a great idea. And if you haven't found her by the time we get back, we'll mobilize the troops."

Spike: "Yeah, whatever. (to Anya) Let's go then—sun'll be up soon."

Anya: "I can't go now. I have to get dressed and say goodbye to Xander. Come by the magic shop in an hour."

Spike: "Fine."

He storms out, very pissed off and slams the door.

Scene 2

At the Magic Shop. The sun is up. Anya unlocks the front door and walks in. Spike is already inside, sitting on the counter smoking.

Anya: "You can't smoke in here. It smells. And you might start a fire. Not to mention, how did you get in? If you can get in, robbers can get in and I can't have anyone walking off with my money."

Spike: "Don't get your knickers in a twist. No one else will get in the way I did."

Anya crosses her arms and glares at him until he puts out his cigarette.

Spike: "So what's the plan?"

Anya: "You're asking me?"

Spike: "Well you're usually around when the scoobies do their detective thing—they only call me in for the muscle bits."

Anya: "I rarely pay attention to all that—it can be very boring."

Spike: "Great."

Anya: "Maybe we should just try to pretend we're them—think like they do—you be Giles and I'll be Buffy."

Spike: "Oh god. I flat out refuse to be Giles."

Anya: "Fine. I'll be Giles. (She scrunches up her face trying to imitate G) We must cease all fun and banter and do lots and lots of research and it must be boring and take lots of time that could be spent doing other more interesting things."

Spike: "Oh that really helps."

Anya: (continuing) "Buffy, you should go check out the scene to look for clues."

Spike: "Whoa, I'm not Buffy."

Anya: "If I'm Giles, you're Buffy."

Spike: "This is ridiculous."

Anya: "No it's not. I think you should go to the Bronze and look for clues."

Spike: "It's daylight, I can't. You go. When it gets dark, I'll hit the demon bars to see if they've heard or seen anything."

Anya: "I can't leave the shop, so whatever we do, we'll have to do from here."

Spike: "Come on! (Seeing by her expression that she won't budge, he relents) Any ideas?"

Just then, the phone rings. She picks it up and deals with it. After she hangs up, she looks back at the phone and says definitively.

Anya: "We could make some calls. (thinking hard) Maybe she had an accident—maybe she was run over by a truck or hit by a bus or had a piano dropped on her head. Then they took her to a hospital—maybe she was unconscious or temporarily dead and so couldn't call. So we could call all the hospitals and ask if anyone has been brought in. Ooh, I'm getting the hang of this—that was really good!"

Spike: "You make the calls. I can't sit around until dark, so I'm going to search the tunnels. Meet back here?"

Anya: "Or maybe she ran into an Immortal. (Very casually/chirpy—she's very pleased with her newly found reasoning ability) There'd be something left, right? Not like a vampire who'd be dust. When she killed that Immortal guy—there was a body. And a head. Just not together. So I'll be sure to ask about headless bodies...or body-less heads when I call."

Spike: "What? I guess..."

It's obvious that he had never considered the possibility that she could be dead. The expression on his face is pained shock. He bends over slightly, putting his hands on the top of his knees for a moment as he thinks about it.

Anya: (Suddenly noticing his changed demeanor/pained expression) "Are you OK? Maybe you should sit down."

Spike: "Not one for the kid gloves, then."

Anya: (understanding) "Oh, right. I shouldn't have mentioned that she could _actually_ be dead. That was insensitive. (Trying to make up for it, she says confidently) I'm sure there'll be no headless bodies. (beat) Or bodyless heads."

Spike: (standing up; getting a hold of himself) "Make the calls."

Anya calls all the hospitals & morgues in the city and outlying areas. Spike searches the scene and asks a lot of questions. He finds her cross necklace in the alley behind the Bronze—the chain is broken. No one else appears to have seen anything. He and Anya try a number of different things, but they don't learn anything. They search for two solid days and are now back at the Magic Box.

Anya: "You should really get some sleep. You look like death. More than usual."

Spike: (ignoring her; he does look ragged) "We must have missed something. People don't just disappear into thin air."

Anya: "Buffy and the others will be back the day after tomorrow. Maybe we should just wait for them—they'll have more ideas."

Spike: "It's already been two and half days."

Anya: "Does she have any friends besides us? Maybe back at the house she has an address book."

Spike: (suddenly getting an idea) "That's it...other Immortals. They have a thing that they can sense each other—even keep track of battles and other goings on. They might know something."

Anya: "See, you can be Giles, too—and you didn't even have to frown. Do you know how to get in touch with any of them?"

Spike: "Sure as hell not going to pay a visit to 'the Wankers'—not exactly on good terms with those blokes. (thinking) She did mention one or two that she was friendly with at the antique show. Don't know how I'd track 'em d...(stops in mid-sentence. He's thought of something. He puts his hands to his face and rubs his eyes) Oh FUCK. I have to go to L.A."

Anya: "I can't go to L.A."

Spike: "S'alright. Better for me to go alone anyway. (pause. To himself) Balls."

Scene 3

L.A.: Angel Investigations the next day (well, night). Spike paces outside the front door, periodically glancing at it; he obviously is having trouble deciding whether or not to go in.

Spike: "Fuck Fuck FUUUUCK. (He rests his forehead against the door in frustration) I can't believe I'm bloody going to do this. FUCK."

He takes a deep breath, opens the door and walks in. Cordelia is alone behind the desk.

Cordelia: "Spike. (Under her breath "oh my god"; she fumbles under the counter for a stake, trying to look casual). (loudly) Spike's here. All the way from Sunnydale. Great to see you again, SPIKE. Can I get you a cup of coffee, I'll just nip into the next room..."

Spike: "Cordelia. Still working for Mr. Sunshine? Can't imagine why your acting career hasn't taken off. Speaking of which, is he in?"

By this time, Wes, Gunn and Angel have arrived and a multitude of weapons are pointed in Spike's direction.

Wesley: "What are you doing here, Spike?"

Spike: "Wesley. It's been such a long time. I'm liking the stubble—makes you look less like an accountant. I'm shaking. Really."

Just then, an arrow flies through the air toward Spike—he bats it away.

Spike: "Now that wasn't very nice."

Gunn: "Sorry, must have slipped."

Spike: "Call your dogs off, Angel. I'm not here to make any trouble."

Angel: "Have you ever made anything but?"

Spike: (at this, Spike smirks and lights a cigarette) "You got me there. (trying to reel in the attitude) Honestly, if I were up to something, would I seriously just walk through the front door like this? (Angel kind of shrugs in the affirmative) Ok, Ok, I probably would. (This reasoning with them isn't working very well.) This time, I just want to talk."

Wesley: (deep sarcasm) "Well then gentleman, he says he wants to talk. Perhaps we should lay down our weapons and fix some tea. What do you say?"

Angel: "And why should we believe you? Personally, I don't have the tiniest bit of inclination to trust you and since it's always better to be safe than sorry..." (He gives a 'lets get him' look to the rest and they start to move towards Spike.)

Spike: "Hang on a minute. Don't you _ever_ talk to your ex-girlfriend? Remember—blond girl, about this tall, attitude problem. If you had, you'd know that I couldn't actually hurt your precious friends here if I wanted to."

Angel: "Your lying."

Spike: "Call her up if you like."

Angel: "Cordy, get Buffy on the phone."

Spike: (oh balls.) "She's not home. Nobody's home up there. Call the Magic Shop—Anya can give you the score."

Angel: "Whose Anya?"

Spike: "You know, ex-vengeance demon. Dates Xander. Boy, you have missed a lot."

Cordelia: "Xander is dating a...(corrects herself) Xander's dating?"

Angel: "I've seen her. Let's hear what she has to say."

Spike rolls his eyes—do we really have to do this? He'd hoped to not have to admit to the whole 'chip' thing, anticipating Angel's reponse. They make the call. Angel talks to her. As soon as he hangs up, he starts laughing.

Angel: "It's ok, he's telling the truth." (He can't stop cracking up.)

Spike: "Laugh it up, gel boy. I can still kick _your_ ass, if I were so inclined."

Angel: "Yeah, she mentioned that, too. Sorry, I just find it very amusing that you of all people have been forceably de-fanged."

Spike: "Pathetic, isn't it? Guess now we have something in common."

Wesley: "So what do you want?"

Spike: "I...uh...(takes a drag from his cigarette)...need your help with something."

Angel: "This should be good. Let's step into my office."

He wants to keep Spike in close proximity—still doesn't trust him. Angel sits behind his desk. Spike sprawls in the chair in front. Cordy comes in, but the others watch from just outside.

Cordelia: "So you want to hire us? Because even though we on occasion will 'help the helpless' for free, you certainly don't qualify for that kind of treatment, so I hope you brought some cash."

Spike: "Not a problem." (He pulls out a roll of bills and shows it to her. She looks pleased.)

Angel: "Just to start: there is no one on this earth that I would be less interested in helping than you, Spike. The only reason I'm even listening to you because I am fascinated by what could possibly possess you to even ask."

Spike: "It's about Miranda."

That got Angel's attention.

Angel: "What about her?"

Spike: "She's gone missing."

Angel: "How long?"

Spike: "Three and a half days."

Angel: "How do you know she didn't just leave you?"

Spike: (Trying so hard to contain his anger) "We're living together now—she's building me a bloody game room in her house. She didn't LEAVE. Something happened."

Angel: "What kind of game room?"

Spike: "You know, pool table, darts, video games and the like."

Angel: "huh"

Spike: "That what you consider cutting edge detective work?"

Angel: "So why come to me?"

Spike: "She's not in Sunnydale, I'm sure of it. When we were in town a few weeks ago, she mentioned a couple of Immortals—friendly types. Can't remember their names or how to find 'em. Thought since your group was doing the whole surveillance thing, you might have a record of who was there."

Angel: "Why do you think they would know something?"

Spike: "Don't know what she told you about her kind, but they're not a very friendly lot—mostly run about trying to kill each other. It's like some ongoing tournament—last one standing takes all. So they just pay attention, is all. Figure they might know something."

Angel: "Cordy, pull the records from the Antique show—flag any of the dealers named Joseph or Samuel. See if you can track down an address or phone number."

Spike: "There's something else. Maybe."

Angel: "I'm listening."

Spike: "Dru came to see me. 'bout a week ago. She mentioned she was back in L.A."

Angel: "And you think she might have something to do with Miranda's disappearance?"

Spike: (shrugs) "Have you seen her around? She's been hanging about with one of those bone-marrow sucking demons...a rotten sort."

Angel: "I don't know, Spike. I mean, last I heard Dru was pretty much over you, so going out of her way to kidnap your girlfriend may be giving yourself a little too much credit. (Noticing something in Spike's demeanor) Unless there's something else you're not telling me."

Spike: (Spike shrugs. It's obvious there is something else—something he's a bit uncomfortable saying) "Maybe. Have you seen her?"

Angel: "Not lately. But it's a big city. Maybe you should explain why it is you think Dru might be involved, 'cause otherwise, I don't think it's worth following up on."

Spike: (thinking about this for a bit) "Yeah...uh...well you know she lets me bite her. (Uncomfortable acknowledging look from Angel) Well we've noticed something recently—maybe to do with that—a change."

Angel: "I'm not following you."

Spike: "Cordy. You got a compact in your purse?"

Cordelia: "Why, you want to check your make-up? Oh and why assume that I will have a mirror on me at all times! (He turns to look at her with a 'duh' look.) Ok, I do."

She fishes in her purse, pulls out a compact and passes it to Spike. She's in the room now, standing behind Spike. He opens the case and holds it in front of his face.

Spike: "Why don't you tell your boss what you see?"

Cordelia: (not thinking about it) "Not much. Just a pasty white vamp with peroxide hair. Big deal. (Realizing, she grabs the mirror and looks more closely.) Holy crap. It's kind of ghostly, but it's definitely a reflection (she then takes the mirror and points it at Angel—nothing there) Wow, how'd you manage that?"

Spike: (shrugs) "Other things to. I can take the sun in small doses (he shows the difference between his two hands—one of them has a hint of color) We haven't mentioned it to anyone. I mean, I know it's nothing—just some physical apparition. No big deal. (leans in; lowering his voice) But, uh, maybe another Vamp might get ideas...jump to conclusions."

Angel: (Floored by this information, he doesn't know how to react. This angers him, but he can't exactly say why. Finally he says) "So that's your game?"

Spike: (defensive) "Yeah, that's it. I started shagging Miranda so I can hang out on the beach on Sundays—always wanted to learn to surf. No. Had no idea this would happen and I didn't go pressuring her, if that's what you're thinking. She brought it up in the first place. I assumed she'd be just like everyone else—unbiteable because of this bloody chip. But she wasn't. Tastes the same. (thinking for a moment) Well, actually a bit more dense or something—with just a hint of spicy-sweetness...mmm like cinnamon."

Angel: "You're sick, Spike."

Spike: "Can we just quickly move through this bloody self-righteousness crap—unless you've managed to completely castrate your inner demon, you'd do the same. Like I was saying, tastes like human blood but it obviously isn't _exactly_."

Angel: "And how would Dru have learned about this little bonus—I thought you didn't mention it to anyone."

Spike: "You know Dru—not exactly easy to hide things from her. I didn't say anything, but she sometimes just knows things"

Angel: "Did you tell Miranda about Dru's visit?"

Spike: "No, why would I? (It's now occurring to him why he should have said something to Miranda, but he won't give Angel the satisfaction of seeing his guilt) It's probably nothing—I mean Dru's never been one for the 'big plan' type things—usually leaves that up to m...whoever she's with."

Angel: "True. But what works for blood may work for marrow and the prospect of invulnerability is a serious motivator."

Spike gets a very worried look on his face.

Angel agrees to help and everyone gets to work. Over the next day and a half, they contact the Immortals, who don't seem to know anything—at least she isn't dead as far as they know. They eventually are able to locate Dru and her new boyfriend, who are running with a decent sized 'gang' of vampires and marrow demons holed up in the usual type cave/wharehouse kind of place. From talking to various sources, they also establish that Dru et al. do have Miranda captive. They work out a rescue plan, which essentially involves Spike going in the front to talk to Dru (and distract them), while Angel finds Miranda.

tbc...


	9. Chapter 9

Part 3

Scene 4

Cave/abandoned building/usual 'bad guy' set.

We see Miranda chained (horizontally) to a stone slab of some kind. Her eyes are closed. She is unbelievably pale and covered with bite marks on her arms and neck. We see small holes in her pants along her thigh—these are the points of entry for the marrow demon's marrow sucking fingernails that are able to pierce the bone to get to the marrow inside. Her left arm is hanging off the edge of the slab—you can see that her wrist is slit and there is a bowl underneath to catch any blood that drains from the wound. It's not bleeding now. Drusilla, her boyfriend and another vampire come into the room. The vamp kneels down and checks the bowl.

Vampire: (whiney) "There's hardly anything in here and I'm hungry. Can't I just go out for a snack until there's more?"

Drusilla: "The piglet must be pure. (Turning to her boyfriend) I think it might be time for tea."

MarrowDemon: "It is time, my pretty. Let's see if this is even worth our trouble now that the beast is drying up."

Drusilla: "Goody goody. Can I try? (nod from MD)

Vampire: (in response to D's moving towards him) "Not another dousing with the holy water—I told you before, it still stings...in _sensitive_ areas. "

Drusilla: "No water. Just wood." (She suddenly pulls a stake out from her dress and jabs it into the chest of the vamp. He's shocked, but doesn't turn to dust. She turns to MD and smiles.)

Vampire: (Suddenly relieved) It worked. I'm still here. I am _so_ going to the beach tomorrow..."

He goes on and on about planning his day while D & MD exchange triumphant looks. Then, after about a minute, the vamp turns to dust.

Drusilla: (pouty) "That's not fair. They closed the park early. And I didn't have time to ride the big wheel."

MD: "It's only been a few days. It's obviously working. We just need more. She can't be the only one. I'll leave it to you to find out where the rest of her kind hide." (he leaves)

Drusilla: (She walks over to Miranda and pokes her on the cheek) "Time to wake up little cow. All the others have already gone to the market."

Miranda doesn't stir; Drusilla finds a pitcher of water, brings it over and starts to pour it on Miranda 's face. She slowly opens her eyes and tries to catch some of the water in her mouth, but then Dru takes it away.

Miranda: (weakly/slightly delirious) "Sorry, fresh out. I told you—takes more than water to make blood. I don't know when you last took a biology class, you crazy bitch, but you can't take the marrow _and_ the blood. So you'd better work something out with Lord Fingernail."

Drusilla: "We just need more cows for the barn. Where do you keep your little friends? _Big_ friends are better." (Miranda doesn't say anything.) How to make the dolly talk? Lots of games to choose from. (Giggling) No batteries required, only clouds of fright to pluck. (Miranda closes her eyes) What would make the horse bolt? Where will the kitten resting on her back go?"

Miranda: "Again, I'll have to go with 'sod off, you crazy bitch'."

Drusilla: "I see your head—your head in my head—or just your face? Do you wish to be the fairest? Or are you afraid of what the man in the mirror might say when you're dead? Let's start with vanity. (She finds a knife and moves it slowly across Miranda's face, scanning her eyes as she does so. Suddenly, she cuts into Miranda's cheek with the knife—she winces.) That mark won't go away like the others, will it? But that's not what you fear...must be death then (she continues to move the knife around and then as she moves it downward towards her neck, Dru's eyes light up) That's it, that's it. My turn to take home the stuffed bear."

Just then there is a commotion outside and one of the minions comes to bring Dru to the front room. She puts down the knife and then runs her finger across the wound that she made, picking up the few drops of blood and then licking her finger.

Drusilla: "Yummie candy. If you're a good girl, you can have some more."

Before she leaves, she re-opens the wound on Miranda's wrist with the knife and carefully places the bowl under it as it starts to bleed again. Miranda's eyelids start to flutter and she's out. A few minutes go by—we can hear angry voices from the next room, but nothing clear enough to understand. From another entrance into the room, we see Angel back in quietly. He turns and sees Miranda—the site of her stops him briefly—a fleeting look of pity crosses his face. In a moment he is next to her, assessing how to get her out of the chains. As he is prying open the chain on her right arm, she stirs.

Miranda: (barely audible) "none left. all gone."

Angel: (whisper) "I'm going to get you out of here—it's Ok."

Miranda: (after a moment) "Spike? I knew you'd come..."

Angel: "Miranda, it's Angel. I'm going to have to use a sword to break through the chain. Don't move."

Miranda: (trying to open her eyes) "oh."

Angel successfully breaks the chains—he lifts her up and carries her limp body out of the room.

Next we see Angel carrying Miranda into the hotel where everyone is waiting. He immediately starts taking her upstairs to one of the rooms.

Angel: "Get some bandages and anti-septic—she's covered in holes. And extra blankets." (He continues to walk toward the room.)

Cordelia: "She's bleeding from somewhere."

After Angel sets her down on the bed, they find the slit wrist and wrap it up. Gun comes back with supplies.

Gunn: "She's still alive, right? I mean, she looks..."

Angel: "Like death, I know. She was conscious a few minutes ago. Let's try to clean her up a bit."

When they put the anti-septic on her wrist, she stirs, writhing in pain.

Wesley: "It's Ok. It's Ok. We need to clean out your wounds."

Miranda: (delirious) "Spike?"

Angel: "He's not here. He's with Dru. You need to rest now."

Miranda: (She tries to open her eyes. And after a moment) "Pain—something for the pain."

She grabs hold of Gunn's arm and looks fiercely into his eyes.

Gunn: "I know what she needs. I'll need to make a couple of calls." (He leaves)

Angel pulls back the blanket he carried her in and Cordy gasps at the sight of her.

Cordelia: "She looks like a pin cushion."

Wesley: "Lets just try to keep her warm until Gunn gets back—once she's sedated, we can take a closer look at her wounds."

Just then Spike comes running up the stairs and is stopped briefly by Angel.

Spike: "You got her out, then? I wanted to give you as much time as possible, so I had to put on quite a show. (trying to peek past Angel) Is she alright?"

Angel: "It's pretty bad, Spike."

Spike brushes past him into the room. Cordy and Wes step back and move to the door to talk to Angel, giving Spike & Miranda some privacy. Before he came in, they pulled the blanket back over her. Spike kneels by the bed and a very pained look crosses his face as he looks at her—he wets his thumb and tries to wash the dried blood off her cheek. When he touches her, he's surprised and leans in closer to her face. He then tilts his head and lays it on her chest. After a moment, he sits back, dumbstruck. He pulls out her cross necklace from his pocket and puts it carefully on the bedside table. He slowly stands up and walks with a sort of shell-shocked look to where the others are standing.

Spike: (calmly & quietly to Angel) "When you found her—her heart was beating, yeah?"

Angel: (nodding) "She's been in and out of consciousness. Why?"

Spike: "It's not now."

They all look at her and Wes goes over to check—he confirms.

Cordelia: "I don't understand—I thought she was immortal."

Spike: (Actually more to himself than in answer to the question) It'll start again—that's what happens with them. It'll start again—maybe in a few hours. I think that's what she told me once—sometimes longer, sometimes less. Was like that when I met her. (beat) Now it seems so wrong for her to be like that—like us (Pause. Fighting back tears, he suddenly switches to anger) I think I need to pay Dru another visit." (He turns to leave)

Cordelia: (to Angel) "Should we really let him go? Didn't you say there were like 30 of them?"

Angel: (shrugs) "At least he'll distract them for a bit—I don't think they're the type to just let it go—they'll come looking for her and this may buy us some time. And who knows, maybe he'll actually kill her."

Cordelia: "Yeah, because you guys have been so successful in the past when it comes to dusting ex-girlfriends."

Spike: (After a couple of steps, he stops himself and walks back to the room; he didn't pay any attention to their conversation, but came back because he remembered something) "You can't leave her alone. Promise you won't leave her alone—and keep a light on. She's afraid of waking up alone and in the dark after...Says she sometimes comes back confused, and if I'm not back... _Promise, _yeah? ."

Angel: "Ok."

Spike: "And, uh. There are some things you should get for when she wakes up. (voice cracking) She's immortal, but she feels pain—(to Angel) more than us. She'll need something for that—something strong."

Wesley: "Gunn's gone to get something."

Spike: (nodding) And lots of Gatorade and spinach—are you writing this down? Because it's important that you get it right in case I'm not back—and meat, like steak or burgers and uh...ice cream."

Cordelia: "Ice cream?"

Spike: "She likes the kind with the chocolate bits and the cherries."

Cordelia: "Got it."

After a moment, he leaves.

Cordelia: "He wasn't actually cr...I mean, it looked kind of like he...(shaking her head) Nevermind. I'll hit the all-night supermarket. (to Wes) You want the first shift?"

Angel: "Someone should be downstairs in case Dru and her cronies show up. I'll be in the lobby."

End Scene

Scene 5

Five or 6 hours later—middle of the night. It's Angel's 'shift'—he is in the room with Miranda, sitting in a chair toward the base of the bed reading a book. Periodically, he glances over to her to see if she's woken up. He tries to stay awake, but eventually succumbs and nods off. He wakes with a start—he was dreaming about her—about the time when she kissed him. He knows she did it out of spite, so why can't he stop thinking about it? Within an instant of his waking up, Miranda takes a loud breath. After a minute or two of regular breathing, she begins to stir. He crouches down near the bed as she tries to open her eyes—the minute her eyelids open, she bolts up in bed and looks around frantically, wide eyed—this sudden movement makes her dizzy and she quickly falls back. She's blinking hard.

Angel: "Miranda—it's Ok. You're in the hotel, remember. I brought you here—away from Drusilla. You're Ok."

She looks at him, confused. After a moment she nods to indicate that she understands.

Miranda: "Angel"

Angel: "Right. I'm here. God, you're heart is beating so fast."

Miranda: (after a moment, weakly) "Water"

Angel: "Here" (Hw pours water from a pitcher by the bed) "And there's Gatorade in the fridge downstairs if you want it"

Miranda: (panicked response) "Don't go. Yet."

Angel: (He brings the glass to her lips—first she takes some small swallows, and then quickly finishes the glass. He pours her another.) "Do you want something for the pain? (indicating some pills on the bedside table) Gunn say's they're likely to knock you out for a while."

Miranda: (She nods, indicating that she wants them. Then her eyes see her cross pendent lying next to the pitcher on the bedside table) "Spike? Is he here?"

Angel: (He thinks about it for just a moment) "He's with Dru. Don't worry—just rest now." (He knows how this might sound, but he decides not to explain.)

You can tell by her eyes that she's disappointed, but she simply doesn't have the strength to ask any more questions. Angel gives her the pills and she takes them. She is soon off to sleep. He brushes the hair back from her face, enthralled by the sudden return of color to her cheeks.

It's almost morning when she wakes again. Angel is sleeping on the chair. She looks around, sleepily and tries to sit up—she winces in pain and then stays down.

Miranda: "Angel. Are you awake? (no response; a bit louder) Angel."

Angel: (waking up with a start) "Yeah, awake. Now. Are you OK?"

Miranda: "I suppose that's rather relative. I'd like that Gatorade now—and could you prop me up a bit with some pillows?"

Angel: "Sure"

He does this first and then leaves the room. He's back in a few minutes with the Gatorade.

Miranda: (she drinks a bit) "Thank you. (pause) Were you here—the whole time?"

Angel: "We actually took it in shifts; First Wes and then Cordy. I was here most of the night."

Miranda: "Did anything happen?—before I woke up?"

Angel: "What do you mean?"

Miranda: "No one's actually been there when I've come back before—I've always wondered..."

Angel: "I was asleep—I'm sorry."

Miranda: "hm. Probably nothing, then."

Angel: "What's it like for you? Where do you..._go_?

Miranda: "I never remember anything. There is a sense of lost time, but nothing concrete."

Cordy knocks on the door and comes in.

Cordelia: "Good morning. How's—oh, she's awake. You're awake! That is SO WEIRD."

Miranda just smiles slightly in greeting.

Cordelia: "I brought donuts."

Miranda: "I don't think I'm quite ready for solid food just yet, but I appreciate the thought."

Cordelia: (to Angel) "Donut?"

He just gives her a blank look.

Miranda: "I'd quite like to take a bath—along with the beating heart comes more bleeding. Cordelia, do you think you could help me?"

Cordelia: "Sure. There's a bath in this room. I'll just start it going and when you're ready..."

Angel: "I need to go downstairs for a minute—you two okay up here alone?"

Cordelia: "I think we can handle it. We'll try not to drown."

Cordelia helps Miranda get undressed and into the bath—she can't even stand up by herself. Cordy tries and fails to hide her reaction to M's copious wounds, but stays to help her clean them and wash her hair.

Miranda: "I'd like to just sit a while, if that's alright."

Cordelia: "Ok. I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

She leaves. After a while, Angel pops his head into the room, careful not to look into the bathroom.

Angel: "Everything OK? Cordy went out for coffee—she'll be back in a few minutes."

Miranda: "Would you mind helping me out of the bath? I'm starting to prune."

Angel: "Cordy will be back soon—I'll send her up."

Miranda: "For goodness sakes, Angel. You're hundreds of years old—surely you've seen a naked woman before. Come help me out."

He reluctantly helps Miranda out of the bath and wraps her in a towel, being careful to avert his eyes. He then helps her to the bed and she gets back under the covers, naked.

Miranda: "Do you have a shirt or something I can wear?"

He goes into another room and gets something for her. She slips it on under the covers. She is a bit more animated, but still very weak.

Angel: "It's likely they'll look for you. You're welcome to stay here until you're feeling better—you'll be safe."

Miranda: "From the antiques event—do you have any records on other Immortals—others like me?"

Angel: "Yeah. We managed to track down Joseph and Samuel when you disappeared—Spike thought they might know something."

Miranda: "The last thing I remember before you showed up—when was that? Yesterday?—was Drusilla and her lovely beau talking about finding others like me. I can't let that happen. This—this is my doing. Can I ask that you destroy any record you have of how to find them?"

Angel: "No problem. Except..."

Miranda: "What?"

Angel: "Spike was with us when we talked to them—he's got their addresses on him."

Miranda: "And now he's with Drusilla."

Angel: (pondering this for a moment) "I wonder if it was all a ruse—the talk of getting their help to find you—maybe he was in on it all along and this was the only way he could think of to find them. (He's just about convinced himself of this) I can't believe I fell for it."

Miranda: (venomous) "Bite your tongue. He would never..."

Her voice gets weak as she starts to tear up slightly—not quite in a stable frame of mind after the blood loss and pain killers—could he be right? No, surely not. Still, she's too emotional to think clearly about anything.

Angel: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you—you should rest—try to sleep. (He decides to add because he thinks it might make her feel better:) You shouldn't feel too bad about it—he was with Dru for more than a century. What they had was intense. She definitely had a power over him, so..."

Miranda: (interrupting; very serious) "Stop talking, Angel."

Angel: "Right. I'll make sure Cordy deletes the files."

She nods, but her eyes are still wet and she looks confused. The day passes—Miranda sleeps through most of it. Angel and Wesley go out to conduct some business. Cordy and Gunn are in the hotel with Miranda. At one point, Miranda asks to use a phone privately. She talks for a while. About an hour later, Joseph shows up in the lobby to pay her a visit. They speak privately behind closed doors. Gunn and Cordy hear/see something upstairs (flash of light) and a few minutes later, see Joseph walk slowly down the stairs and leave. Cordy and Gunn go upstairs to check on Miranda—when they get to the room, they don't see her right away. Suddenly, in a whirl, Miranda overpowers them and before they knew what hit them, she has handcuffed them both to something unmovable.)

Miranda: "Sorry about that, but I can't let you interfere—no one gets hurt that way. Tell Angel this has been my doing and I'll take care of it."

After she's finished securing them, she stands up, appearing to be in full strength. They're both utterly flabbergasted.

Gunn: "What? How? Just a few hours ago, you couldn't stand up and now you're pulling this?"

Miranda is rummaging around for more clothes, ignoring them. She leaves and then comes back into the room for a moment to pick up her necklace. She then walks boldly out of the room.

Cordelia: "So you're just going to leave us here? Angel might not be back for hours and I've got to pee."

Gunn: "Oh, this isn't going to be fun, is it?"

She's just about gone, when something catches her eye and she peeks back into the room.

Miranda: "What size shoe do you wear?"

Gunn: "About a nine wide."

Miranda: "Not you."

Cordelia: "Oh no. Not the boots. These are $500 designer cowboy boots. They are practically the only part of my pre-poverty wardrobe that I have left. (whiney) Not the boots!"

Ignoring her, Miranda puts her foot next to Cordy's and smiling, she pulls off Cordy's boots as she says:

Miranda: "Sorry—I'll replace them. You may have just given me a theme for tonight's party. It's going to be bloody brilliant." (She puts them on her feet and leaves.)

We see her enter a shop—antiques, of course. She gets a nod from a man behind the counter—he's dark and handsome in a rugged kind of way. She leaves sometime later with a cloth bag, stuffed full. Next we see her in a room somewhere—not clear where. She's sitting on the floor—meditating? Around her, we see an assortment of weapons, most of which have been modified, i.e., regular daggers with wooden covers. Now, flash to Angel Investigations where Angel and Wesley are just returning.

Angel: "Hello? Guys? Where is everyone?"

He and Wes look at each other and then run up the stairs. They find C&G tied up in the bedroom. Angel glances at the empty bed.

Angel: "Dammit, they found her. (angry) Spike."

Gunn: "Uh, didn't exactly go down like that."

Cordelia: "Yeah, somehow little helpless Miranda was able to kick our asses and run off with my boots."

Gunn: (defensive) "She surprised me—I wasn't ready—how many times do we have to go through this?"

Angel: "Miranda? As in the woman who just a few hours ago I had to help out of the bath did this?"

Gunn: "You helped her out of the bath? How come I never get those kind of jobs?"

Cordelia: (eye roll) "That guy Joseph came by and a few minutes later, she turned into Xena Warrior Princess. Can you please unlock these things? I really have to pee."

They find the key after searching the room and unlock the cuffs.

Gunn: "She said to tell you that 'she'll take care of it'"

Angel: "She's going back to the caves—what, is she crazy?"

Wesley: "It's suicide."

Cordelia: "She's going to _ruin_ those boots! (Glares from everyone.) And get herself killed."

Angel: "How long ago did she leave?"

Gunn: "About 4 hours."

Angel: "Let's hope we're not too late." 


	10. Chapter 10

Warning: strong sexual content

Scene 6

They arrive at the entrance to the lair –Joseph is standing there. He steps confidently in front of them.

Joseph: "Miranda thought you'd come. She needs your word that you won't interfere, else I can't let you pass."

Angel: "She needs our help."

Joseph: "It is Miranda's sense of duty that requires she do this alone. She understands the risk. I wouldn't underestimate her."

Angel: "We can't just stand here and wait."

Joseph: "Send your people to guard the exits, if you like. No one leaves."

Angel: "Wes, Cordy—go around to the back entrance and stay there. We'll call for you if we need you. Gunn and I are going in—(looking at Joseph) to observe."

Joseph: (looking Angel dead in the eye) "This is Immortal business. Do I have your word that you will not involve yourself?"

Angel: (frustrated nod) "Yes."

Joseph nods and lets them pass. Somehow they find a way to observe, without being seen, the main cavern where all the action is. Furthest from the entrance, we see Dru and her marrow demon boyfriend, who I will subsequently refer to as Phil, and Spike. Spike is tied to a chair. An assortment of other demons are milling about. We hear a small commotion from one of the entrances. Dru and Phil exchange a look—this is what they were expecting. Miranda steps out into the main cavern. She's dressed like a cowboy—right down to the hat and the long coat (and, of course, Cordy's boots). She tosses her big duffle bag on the ground in front of her. She casually unzips it and fishes inside for something. We don't see what she grabs, but when she's finished, she stands up and flashes what looks like a small pistol. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket and proceeds to light it with the pistol, which turns out to be a lighter. She twirls the pistol/lighter, but when she goes to put it swiftly in the gun holders on her hips, she finds them full already with other weapons (stakes). She shrugs and tosses it back in the still open bag. No one has moved since she came in, except that Dru is now sitting on Spike's lap (he looks annoyed).

Miranda: "Should we get started, then?"

Drusilla: (to Spike) "She's early...still broken, but couldn't stay away (She strokes Spike's face with her hand). If you're a good little carrot..." (She whispers something in his ear that we don't hear. He turns his head away from her in annoyance. She giggles at this.)

Phil: "Presumably, you haven't come alone. Still, (looking around) I think you will recognize that you are outnumbered. From what Spike here tells us, I think we might be able to make some sort of a deal."

Miranda: "I don't know what he told you, but I can assure you it makes no difference. Oh, and just so we're clear, I _am_ alone."

Phil: (ignoring her) "I am prepared to offer you your freedom and his (indicating Spike); all you have to do is lead us to your enemies. It is, surely, a win-win situation."

Miranda: "Are you done talking? Because I'd hate to interrupt. See these boots? (She shows them off) These boots were surely not made for negotiating. And this is not a rescue mission. (to Spike) Sorry, love. (to all) Quite simply, I'm here to kill you. All. And I don't have all day, so I'd like to get started rather soonish, if you don't mind."

Phil: (laughs) "I don't think you're in the position, _quite simply_, to make such threats. Just give us the names and addresses of three others like yourself and once we have them, we'll let you..."

Miranda interrupts him.

Miranda: (Completely ignoring him; in a cheery/light-hearted tone) "Wait, wait. Who am I? I went to a great deal of trouble putting this little ensemble together (indicating her outfit), so before we begin you have to guess. (Confused looks from everyone) Come on now. Dru, you like playing games—oh, but right, you're a crazy psychotic bitch and so probably not very up on pop culture. Anyone?"

Phil: (Trying to ignore her bizarre comments) "So do we have a deal?"

Spike: (Seeing the look on Miranda's face; genuine concern) "There's too many, love. Why not let 'em take a few—saves you the trouble of killing them yourself, right?"

Miranda: (Fleeting look of disappointment upon hearing Spike's words. Then back to business) "Oops. Almost forgot. (She pulls two grenades out of her knapsack, pulls the release and tosses them into two of the side entrances; they explode leaving only the exit behind her unblocked). (ominous) Nobody leaves. (back to flippant) Ok, one more hint and then we really have to get going."

She pulls something out of her coat pocket and tosses it quickly towards Phil—it is a small metal object that lodges in his forehead (not killing him, as it is small). As soon as this happens, he shrugs in aggravation and indicates to the 'foot soldiers' in the room to 'get her'. He pulls the object from his forehead and looks at it. It's an old west Marshall's star. Back to the action. A few minions rush towards her. She stands there very calmly—pretends to be looking for a place to put her half smoked cigarette. She carefully places it on the ground just as the first guys are upon her. As she is standing back up, she pulls out two small swords and in a coordinated circular motion, cuts off three of their heads. Witnessing this, the rest of the rushing hoard holds back for a moment and, as seems to be the stereotype in fight scenes like this (one against many), the minions form an 'ominous' circle around her. After a few minutes of circling, with Miranda looking very intensely at the hoard of minions, gripping her weapons, she relaxes for a moment and stands up straight.

Miranda: (irritated) "Ok, somebody has got to go first and traditionally, it would be one of you lot. That's how these things work. Otherwise, this circling thing could go on all day and we might as well go back to the bloody talking. Ready?"

At this, there is some shrugging by the minions and a few of them charge her.

(Author's note: I'm not one for writing detailed fight scenes. Try to imagine a Bruce Lee film crossed with the chicks from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Miranda's fighting style is more martial arts-y than say Buffy's, which makes sense considering that Miranda doesn't have the super powers that Buffy has. She also expertly makes use of an array of different weapons. So imagine Miranda kicking some serious ass as Dru, Spike & Phil look on. A couple of cute moments—at one point, Miranda picks up her cigarette off the ground. She fights in the direction of Spike—when she gets close enough, she says:

Miranda: "Mind holding my cigarette, love?"

Spike: "No worries." (She moves to put it in his mouth. Before she does so, he says) The Quick and the Dead."

Miranda: "Figures you'd be the only one to get it. Thought about doing The Limey, but couldn't quite figure how to pull off Terrence Stamp." (She puts the cigarette in his mouth and he takes a drag.)

The fighting takes her away again. Spike is watching her intently. There's something strange about her—not the fact that she's kicking ass (which is certainly surprising considering her state when he left her), but her demeanor as she does it. She's obviously putting on a show with all the snarky comments and swaggering, but it's obvious to him that just under the surface is incredible concentration—almost as if under it all, she's in a trance. Even when she speaks to him like just then, she doesn't seem to actually see him—it's all part of the show.

She is working her way through all the minions and it is becoming clear that she is completely capable of clearing the room. When she is just about done, Phil grabs an ax and walks toward her. One of the vamps caught her by surprise and dislocated her shoulder, but other than that, she is virtually untouched. She manages to pop it in and finish off the last of them when she turns to Phil.

Miranda: "Now _this_ I have been looking forward to. (She puts down the weapon she has and out of her coat pulls her usual long sword. They fight. He takes a swing with the ax and misses—she grabs the handle and pulls it forward, his arm with it) You know, I REALLY hate those fingernails. I just don't get it. I mean, how do you get ANY housework done?" (At this, she takes her sword and cuts the handle of the axe, taking his fingers (and nails) with it. He cries in pain and then finds another weapon. Meanwhile, an abrupt change of expression comes across Dru's face. She suddenly looks frightened.)

Drusilla: "She's going to kill me. I see it. The game's over and I didn't get the fluffy bunny. (She rushes to the wall where she grabs a set of keys hanging from a nail. She walks with them toward Spike and starts to fumble with the keys.) Help me, Spike. Who will take care of Miss Edith? Yes, you must be a good boy and help your mummie."

Spike doesn't say anything. It's hard to tell what he's thinking by his expression—maybe he is ever-so-slightly conflicted. Just as Dru is about to unlock the chains, Miranda throws something from across the room that hits Dru, hurtling her backwards away from Spike.

Miranda: (to Dru) "No. It's not fair to make him choose."

After another moment, she kills Phil by taking off his head with her sword. She turns to Dru, who is now scurrying backwards on the floor—too paralyzed by fear to get up and run away. As Miranda passes by Spike, she pauses for a moment. Without taking her eyes off Dru, she says to Spike, rather coldly:

Miranda: "I have a rule about ex-girlfriends—ex's of any kind, really. Can't be objective—motives are never entirely clear so I made rule. I don't kill them. I've been able to stick to it—one of the few that's held up over the years. But this is different. (She turns to look at Spike) I'm sorry."

Before he has a chance to respond—she turns away. She's afraid of what she might see. She walks over to Dru.

Miranda: "Time to end the psychosis." (She lifts her sword, as if to decapitate Dru, but then shoots a fleeting glance in Spike's direction. Instead of swinging her sword, she pulls out a stake with her other hand and drives it into Dru's chest. As with the other (guinea pig), she doesn't turn to dust. Miranda walks back to Spike and as she uses her sword to cut through the chain holding him, she says:) Based on the other bloke, you've got about 30 seconds to say your goodbyes."

She takes the cigarette from his lips and immediately turns her back to him and walks away. Spike frowns—he's not sure what to do. He looks over to Dru, who calls his name weakly. He hesitates another moment, looking at Miranda's back as she walks away. Dru calls to him again and he goes to her this time. We see Miranda's face as she walks away. Her steps are starting to slow down, as if she is being overcome with fatigue. Her face has a pained sadness. In a few seconds, we hear the 'dust' sound and Dru is gone. Spike stands up.

Spike: "Miranda. Wait—I..."

Miranda: (She stops and turns around to look at him. The show is over—she's herself again. Resolute.) "I need some time. (The tone in her voice indicates that she means 'time to think'. The implication is that she won't be jumping into his arms just yet...she quickly adds) I'll see you back in Sunnydale."

Spike gets her meaning, and although he's confused, he doesn't protest (a bit shellshocked?). Miranda walks toward the exit and leaves. Spike sits down in the chair with a heavy frown.

Scene switches to outside the cave, where Joseph, Angel and Gunn are waiting. Miranda walks out, looking very weary. To Joseph:

Miranda: "It's done."

Joseph nods and Miranda touches his arm. Something seems to pass between them, and when Miranda lets go, her knees buckle. Joseph helps her up.

Joseph: "You should get some rest. I'll stay behind for a bit—in case anyone wanders in...or out."

Miranda: (very solemn and serious) "Let the blonde one pass. (Joseph nods) (to Angel) Can I stay at your place tonight?"

Angel: "Yeah, sure. Stay as long as you like."

Miranda: (nods) "Carry my sword back for me? I've got a few things to do. (Anticipating his response) Alone."

He agrees, she passes the sword to him (it's obvious that she can't even lift it at this point) and walks off.

Joseph: "Miranda. (She stops and turns) This doesn't change anything. We all make mistakes." (She doesn't say anything, but turns and continues walking) (to Angel) "Keep an eye on her for me—maybe follow her with the sword. It isn't safe for her to be free of it."

Angel nods, thankful to be given an excuse to do what he had already intended.

Jump to scenes of Angel following Miranda around the town. Her movements are slow and pained, yet deliberate. She makes stops at a shop selling flowers—comes out with one red and one white rose. She then visits four liquor stores, the last of which she leaves with a bottle of something. She goes into a drug store and gets an ice pack. Finally, we see her get out of a cab at a small church. We see from the sign that it is a catholic church called St. Michael's. First, she tries to open the front door—it's locked. She tugs on it a bit, but quickly gets frustrated. She walks around to the side where there is a gated small graveyard. She has some difficulty scaling the wall, but manages it after a few attempts. She plods up to a pair of matching gravestones. She places a rose on each grave and then sits on top of one of gravestones, rests the ice pack on her shoulder and pulls out the bottle she'd bought.

Miranda: "Come have a drink with me, Angel. (silence) I know you've been following me."

Angel: (Stepping out from the shadows) "That obvious, eh?"

Miranda: "Actually, you did pretty well until the cab ride—not easy to be stealthy in a big yellow car. I knew Joseph would ask and I knew you'd agree. Have a drink with me—Irish whiskey."

Angel: "Wouldn't think it would take four liquor stores to find Irish whiskey. (beat) No thanks—not much of a drinker."

Miranda: (Ignoring him and pouring whiskey into three plastic cups) "It's not just any whiskey. Take it, or Cal and I will be terribly offended."

Angel: "Cal?"

Miranda: "Sorry. Forgot the introductions. Angel, meet my husband Cal (indicating the gravestone that she is sitting on) and my daughter, Isabella (Indicating the matching stone. She hands Angel a cup, which he accepts in rather stunned silence.) Right, the Whiskey. Had to find the right vintage. This one was put aside the year of our marriage—turned out OK, but most stores don't carry it. (She lifts her glass) Cheers (She drinks hers down and pours the other on the ground in front of the gravestone she's sitting on.) Oh, (explaining) Isabella never liked Whiskey."

Angel: "Was it an accident?"

Miranda: "What?"

Angel: "The year of death is the same for both—were they together?"

Miranda: (pained pause). "No" (She pours herself another drink) "Drink up" (Angel downs his and lets her pour him another) "This is the first time I've been back. (beat) I never even went to the funeral. (She laughs, shaking her head) Twenty years."

Angel: "I thought you lived in Ireland."

Miranda: "Hm. We did. Moved to the states when he got sick—better facilities here—better treatments. She was already here."

Angel: "He would have been amazed at you tonight—it was quite a sight. I still can't figure out how you managed it—when I left you earlier, you..." (She interrupts.)

Miranda: "Borrowed energy. My technique, plus a few modifications I picked up from watching Buffy. (pause) He would have _hated_ it."

Angel: "I don't understand."

Miranda: "My husband was a good man. A religious man. He didn't believe in violence."

Angel: "Sure, but in this case, you were fighting against evil."

Miranda: "I'm not sure that he actually comprehended evil—it was almost like he was so far removed from it that it wasn't visible to him. Had he known it, he wouldn't object to the destroying of it—he wasn't a pacifist entirely. But that's not why he would have hated to see it—he'd hate it because he would have been able to see that I liked it. (She takes another drink; she looks directly at Angel) I did."

Angel: "Why does that matter?You did what had to be done."

Miranda: "He would argue that while violence is sometimes necessary, it is also something that should never be enjoyed—it is simply a terrible means to an end. To enjoy it, or even to revel in one's skill at it, is to let some part of the darkness in."

Angel: "Maybe sometimes the darkness is already there."

Miranda: "Yeah. (pause) He couldn't quite understand what I was—how could he, neither did I. Neither _do_ I. He thought, perhaps, that it was my conceit—my pride in fighting—that was keeping me out of heaven. And before you think it, he told me this not to chastise me or judge me—he honestly wanted to help me; to _save_ me. I had never met anyone so...pure...so true to himself. Whether or not I believed him was rather irrelevant—I was a better person when I was with him. (pause) He would have _hated_ it."

Angel: "You're tired. No sense having these thoughts now. Lets head back."

Miranda agrees. They leave.

Scene 7

Back at the hotel. Miranda is sitting down on a couch chowing down on a gigantic spinach salad, while Gunn is relating the tale of her fight to the rest of them. He was ridiculously impressed and is going on and on about it.

Miranda: (to no one in particular) "Do you think we can order some Chinese food, too?"

Cordelia: "I have never seen someone eat so much so fast."

Miranda: "I did just kill, like, 20 demon-y things—gives a girl an appetite. And I'm still healing."

Gunn: "Oh, there were at least 30 in there. Don't you think? It was ROCKIN'. I've never seen anyone kick so much demon ass (to Angel). No offence, man."

Angel: "Twenty-six. I counted 26."

Miranda: "There were 5 guarding the entrance when I got there. What about pizza? Anyone up for a pizza?"

Gunn: "Thirty-one—_that_ is impressive. And the way you did that thing with the two swords—that was _awesome_. And then you flipped over that guy and went all 'Bruce Lee' on their asses. Damn. INSPIRING. (to Angel/Cordy/Wesley) So's that what a Slayer looks like? 'Cause I could seriously get behind that kind of girl power."

Angel: "Something like that."

Cordelia: "Yeah, but Buffy never really knew how to accessorize."

Miranda: (casually, in between bites) "I've never seen Buffy take on that many. (She quickly looks up at them) Anyone makes the cat sound loses a limb. It was just an observation."

Gunn: "So you've done that before, right? That's not something you pick up on the fly."

Miranda: "Um. Never demons—not with that kind of head count. That's new."

Gunn: "How's it different?"

Miranda: "Kinda makes it easier, actually (to Angel). No offense. Demons rely on their strength and frankly are not terribly bright or quick. Plus the vampires just disappear when you kill them, which means you don't get the body pile-up—always having to watch your feet—like you do if you're fighting people. (Suddenly noticing the looks on everyone's faces). I mean, when your fighting humans, the goal is more to maim and incapacitate than to kill, so once they're down, they can still trip you up, so you have to be careful. (More looks; tries to explain) We're talking trained soldiers here—not random passersby."

Cordelia: "Oh, like in a war, where 'maiming' is an appropriate goal and not so terrifyingly icky sounding like it is right now."

Miranda: "Well, not exactly. Sort of—there were 'sides', as in people on opposites of. But maybe we should just let that drop for now. Back to tonight—demons are stronger and more 'grabby' when they're standing up; something I wasn't quite prepared for—hence the dislocated shoulder."

Wesley: (Admiring her bag of weapons) "Where did you get these? There are some rare and valuable pieces here. (Holding up an usual looking item) I wouldn't even know what to do with this one." (He passes it around to the crew.)

Miranda: "I have to return those. They belong to another Immortal friend. I'll give you his card—he has a shop in town. It's not cheap."

(Author's note: Time for a quick summary. After more admiring words from Gunn, Miranda explains how she was able to 'borrow' energy from Joseph for the fight. She had called him and a few other Immortals to discuss the situation—although she agreed that this was her responsibility (none of this would have happened if she didn't let Spike bite her in the first place), she was in no shape to fight the fight. Joseph was able to give her the energy she needed—like a mini-quickening. It was a small risk for him, but he was willing to do it given the circumstances.)

At one point, Miranda pulls Cordelia aside and gives her money to replace the boots. She also gives her a check made out to Angel Investigations that she knows Angel himself wouldn't accept—she and Cordy decide to keep it from him. As the night wears on, Miranda gets increasingly tired as the energy and adrenaline wear off even more—she's back to being in a fair bit of pain. Every inch of her body hurts—plus she is emotionally drained/depressed/confused(?). Everyone leaves except Angel. They go upstairs. For some reason, I see them in what would be a typical double hotel room—two double beds next to each other, separated by a nightstand (now that I've watched more episodes of 'Angel', it seems they don't really have those kind of rooms, but OH WELL). It's his room—she'd indicated that she didn't feel comfortable being alone. He didn't argue. She's sitting on her bed (on top of the covers) dressed in one of his button-down shirts and a pair of shorts she borrowed from Cordelia. He walks into the room and sits down at the foot of the other bed and starts taking his shoes off. He inhales deeply, as if he smells something.

Miranda: (Noticing him sniffing; somewhat mortified) "Oh, God. Do I smell? I didn't have the energy to shower. I forgot that vampires have such sensitive noses."

Angel: (embarrassed) "No, no it's fine. I thought maybe you were wearing perfume. It's nice."

Miranda: (confused look—she isn't wearing perfume) "Maybe from the bubble-bath earlier."

Angel: "There's another blanket in the closet if you want it. I'm not a very good judge of temperature."

Miranda: "Thanks. And thanks for letting me invade your room like this. I'm just not sure that I'd be able to fight tonight if anything were to happen—I feel safer here."

Angel: (small smile) "I'm glad you're here. (catching himself) I mean, glad that you feel safe. After what you've been through."

Miranda: "Have another night-cap with me? I don't think I'll be able to sleep just yet."

Angel: "Maybe tea would be better."

Miranda: "But whiskey's a happy drink. I definitely think I need something a bit numbing."

Angel: (acquiescing) "Maybe just one."

She gives him a weak smile, finds the bottle and pours a couple of drinks. They each take a sip and sit in silence for a minute.

Miranda: "I know you've been dying to say it—I'm sure you've been thinking it. Just please don't."

Angel: "And what would that be?"

Miranda: "Something akin to 'told you so' or 'that's what you get when you play with fire' or some other such nonsense. It's not that simple."

Angel: (mildly annoyed) "You think you know me—know what I'm about, but you don't. (Pause. A bit whiney) I wasn't going to_ say_ it." (Implication is that he _was_ thinking it)

Miranda: "I'm not sure I'm going to leave him."

She's not sure why she chose to say this or even what it means. Every fibre of her being longs for _him, _is desperate at the _thought_ of him. But being with Spike has consequences. She turns this word over in her mind—_consequences_. It's dangerous for her, for Them. But...

Angel: "Now there's a statement filled with decisiveness."

Miranda: "Just so we're clear, it's _complicated_."

Angel: (Ever so slightly snarky) "Complicated. Gotcha."

Miranda: "And if I decide to, it won't be for the reason you think."

Angel: "Okay. (pause) Listen, I don't pretend to know what's going on in your head and I'm not sure I'd want to if I did. And I _know_ I wouldn't understand what could be complicated about dating a guy like Spike. But if you say it's complicated, then fine, it's complicated. I think we both know that I'm not the one doing the judging here. It's your call."

Brief silence

Miranda: (A touch flippant/snarky) "So when did you start this 'hero' business thing of yours? Did you just wake up one day and decide to help?"

Angel: "Not quite that simple, but in a nutshell."

Miranda: "But that is pretty much what you do, right? Run around doing the right thing—rescuing people—fighting the forces of evil with your super-human strength."

Angel: "Uh, you could say that. I didn't always."

Miranda: "What did you do before?"

Angel: "A lot of terrible things—and a whole lot of nothing."

Miranda: "And let me guess—one day someone pulled you out of the gutter, showed you the light and BAM, Mr. Professional Hero was born."

Angel: "Actually..."

Miranda: "And there must have been a girl—there's always a girl. (Seeing the expression on his face and realizing) Buffy. (softening) Sorry. I was pretty close, wasn't I? I can be such a snot sometimes. I didn't mean...(thinking about it) I don't know what I meant. God, why can't things ever just be simple? You think you've figured it all out—made your decisions and then you get side-swiped by an entirely new world."

Angel: "It's not that different—this world. There's good and there's bad and you just pick a side and do your best to figure out who is where—it's usually pretty obvious and when it's not, you go with your instincts."

Miranda: "Now you sound like Buffy."

Angel: "Buffy and I are on the same side. And I think you are, too, only you don't see it yet."

Miranda: "I envy Buffy sometimes. I do. Must be nice to see things so clearly—to actually be born with a purpose. But if you're not, how do you get there? How do you make that decision to try to make a difference? I'm not convinced people ever get to that point alone."

Angel: "You made a difference tonight."

Miranda: "For purely selfish reasons."

Angel: "Not purely selfish. It's a start. You could do a lot—if you wanted."

Miranda: (Obviously intrigued by the idea—at least part of her. Then she shakes it off) "No. Not now. I see the world in shades of gray. I recognize the extremes, but I'm not ready to go there yet. I need more time to be selfish, so I'm quite happy to be Switzerland for the time being. Gray can be a very soothing color."

Angel: "There'll be a time when you_ will_ have to make a choice."

Miranda: "Maybe. Not tonight." (She finishes her drink and puts down the glass.)

Angel: "You did the right thing."

Miranda: (She looks at him directly for the first time since they've been talking. After scanning his face for a while, she gives a small smile, reaches over to touch his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.) "Perhaps it's time to try and get some sleep."

She turns off the light and they both get under the covers in their separate beds. A few minutes of silence elapse.

Miranda: "You remind me of him, you know. Cal. Similar build, coloration, and..."

It's obvious she thinks the similarities go beyond the physical, but she stops there. She finds the resemblance comforting, but it's more than that. In his face, she sees a familiar sort of longing. She wonders if he, too, would have the power to make her feel_ right_, worthy.

Angel: (Not really sure how to respond to that) "Good night" (She hears him inhale again and turn over on his side facing away from her.)

About an hour goes by—lots of tossing and turning. Certainly no sleeping. She gets up and walks to the bathroom to get a glass of water. On her way back to bed, she bangs her knee on something—a moment later the light comes on.

Angel: "Can't sleep?"

Miranda: (shakes her head) "Maybe I should have taken another one of those pain pills—but I just hate that kind of sleep. It's so artificial. I'm sorry, am I keeping you up?"

Angel: "No. Not having any luck myself with the sleeping." (He is now sitting up against the headboard of his bed.)

Miranda: (Sits down at the edge of his bed) "It's like my entire body is buzzing; tying itself into knots. I've always had trouble sleeping after the Quickening."

Angel: "What's that?"

Miranda: (Not wanting to explain the whole Immortal battle business) "Oh, just something similar to what Joseph and I did earlier with the energy exchange."

She moves her legs up onto the bed and turns to face Angel. They stare at each other for a moment.

Angel: (a bit nervous) "Warm milk? I, uh, heard that helps with sleeping—getting to the sleeping."

It's obvious there is some sensual vibe going on here—Miranda's countenance is entirely different from before.

Miranda: "So much pain these past days—everything so rough and harsh. Every touch, every thought, hurtful."

Angel: "I'm sorry." (It's all he could think of to say. He looks at her face—now more up close than they've been since the morning.) "The cut on your cheek—it's the same as it was this morning. The others have faded." (He moves his hand as if to touch the scar. She pulls away slightly before he does, knowing it would hurt. He lets his hand fall slightly to beneath the cut and softly brushes her skin. She closes her eyes. He lets his hand stay there for a moment caressing her cheek and then abruptly pulls his hand away, thinking that this was inappropriate.) "Sorry, I..."

Miranda: "It's ok. Sometimes a soft touch is all you need to forget the pain."

She picks up the glass of water on the beside table and takes a drink. She's longing to be touched, to be comforted. A familiar desire, she knows herself too well. And as she's done so many times in the past, she clears her mind of the complexities, the identities. She conveniently forgets how this has gotten her into trouble in the past. No, tonight she will indulge her weakness. She sets down the glass and turns back to Angel.

Miranda: "Would you like to kiss me, Angel?"

Angel: "Why?"

Miranda: (Amused by the question) "Because I'd quite like to be kissed and my instincts tell me you wouldn't much mind."

Angel: (This is Angel being as flirtatious as is possible for him in his usual broody way) "We've already kissed once. Maybe that was enough."

Miranda: "But that was a dreadful, spiteful kiss. I think maybe we're both in need of soft and sweet."

Angel: "Maybe."

He leans in for the kiss. Just before their lips touch, he whispers: "it wasn't _that_ dreadful". They share a very soft and delicate kiss.

Miranda: "Better?"

He just nods and goes in for more. This kind of kissing goes on for a while—it's so gentle that it's almost innocent. Like two teenagers kissing without any expectation of anything more. They stop for a moment. Angel runs his hand through her hair and leans in to smell it.

Miranda: "See? That's all we needed. Maybe sleeping now..."

Angel: (not listening) "You smell so nice."

Just as Miranda was thinking about pulling back, Angel leans in for another kiss—this time with a bit more passion. She seems a bit surprised at first, but quickly responds in kind. Things start to heat up—innocence is officially gone from what they're doing as hands start to wander. After a few minutes of this, Angel basically pulls her around and lays her on her back (head on the pillow) as they continue to kiss. They both seem a bit taken aback by his forcefulness. He stops himself for a moment, just after he positions her on her back—he's obviously overcome, and surprised at his actions.

Angel: "Sorry. Maybe we should s..."

Miranda: "It's OK."

Looking straight up at him, she reaches behind her neck and undoes the clasp of her cross necklace—just as she moves her arm to place it on the bedside table he practically lunges at her and the necklace falls on the floor. He opens her shirt and runs his hands over her breasts. He pulls back a second and looks at her. He kisses her breasts and the rest of her upper body greedily. She is inflamed by the intensity of his desire for her. He is so appreciative of every part of her body—like a virgin or a widower. She runs her hand over his bare chest and around to his back and downward. He is pushing himself against her body—she can feel that he's ready. She moves her hands around to unbutton his trousers—he stops her.

Angel: "No. We can't. (But then he moves in to kiss her and touch her again) It's been so long. No—there's some reason why we can't—we shouldn't." (He can't stop himself from touching her.)

Miranda: (not understanding) "It's Ok. We _need_ this. It'll be OK."

Angel: (mumbles) "Some reason...I can't remember."

She takes his hand and moves it under her shorts and between her legs so that he can feel her. At this, he is completely overcome and quickly pulls off her shorts and pulls down his pants and pushes himself inside her with a moan. He stops for a moment to enjoy the sensation before he pulls back to thrust again. She wraps her legs around him as he continues to plunge into her. The look on his face is a combination of amazement and ecstasy. She can tell right away that this isn't something he does—that he's not the sort who would normally succumb to such base physical desires. She feels a twinge of guilt—she'd started it, though she hadn't anticipated it going this far. But then his enjoyment—his freedom—is so infectious that she herself is overcome with it. The pain, the emotion of the past week fades away with his whimpers of pleasure as he enjoys her body. He kisses her when he can break away from the rhythm—the intensity of the moment. It feels so unbelievably good—he'd forgotten. And not just the physical—the friction of it—it's the freedom of letting go. The moment he'd entered her, everything else stopped—every worry, every concern—he's lost in the freedom of it and he, for one, needs to be lost. So does she. They do nothing beyond the basics—they don't change position, they don't talk, they don't pause for a breath. She wants him to come—she wants to make him feel that good—she instinctively wants to take away his pain, his longing. He starts to pant unnecessarily—a low groan starts in the back of his throat. He can't stop himself from thrusting harder, faster and deeper as the moment approaches. She digs her nails into his broad, muscular back as she bucks up into him and squeezes him tightly inside her as the waves of her orgasm flow down. He wasn't expecting this added stimulation and lets out a shocked gasp followed by a sharp whimper as his body takes over and releases everything into her. Everything. He collapses onto her. They're both utterly spent and fall asleep almost instantly.

(Author's note: Just FYI—I wrote this before he had his one-nighter with Darla. And also, I am assuming that no one has articulated to Miranda the details of the gypsy curse.)

Scene 8

Angel's room. Later that night (close to dawn). Miranda wakes up—she's draped over Angel's chest. An uncomfortable look crosses her face like "oh shit". She manages to extricate herself without waking him up. She gets dressed quickly and is obviously trying to decide if she should leave a note—she feels almost desperate to get out of there. Finally, she decides to just leave one of her business cards from the shop on the table—she thinks about whether or not to write anything on the back. In the end, she can't find a pen anywhere so just leaves the card and takes off. A couple hours later, Angel wakes up. At first, finding himself alone, he thinks/hopes that he may have dreamt it. BUT 1) he's naked and 2) as he goes to get up, he burns his foot on her necklace, which had fallen to the floor. He suddenly looks pretty freaked out, but looks at the clock and thinks for a minute. "Ok, nothing feels different. It was just sex—not enough to..." He shakes his head and runs his hand over his face. He mumbles to himself "stupid". He then notices the card on the table and picks it up. He frowns. Next thing we see is him fully dressed, coming down the stairs. He sees Cordy first. She's drinking coffee and eating a donut (leftover from yesterday) at the front desk.

Cordelia: "You're up early. Is Miranda still asleep?"

Angel: "She took off early this morning—don't know when exactly."

Cordelia: (disappointed) "Oh, really? I didn't get to say goodbye. You know despite the whole handcuff incident, I _like _her. And it has nothing to do with the fact that she gave me $500 for a pair of boots—it's more because she knows what a decent pair of boots costs, you know?"

Angel: "Uh, she left her necklace—could you pack it up for me and have it sent up to her?"

Cordelia: (surprised) "She left her necklace? This same necklace that Spike brought down from Sunnydale—the one she never takes off? The one with the big honkin' ruby? And she just forgot it."

Angel: "I guess maybe we should send it registered mail, you think?" (He hands it to her)

Cordelia: (getting an idea) "Hey, did something happen between you two last night? I thought I detected a vibe."

(Author's note: Keep in mind that this is back when C and A were honestly just friends and C would have been excited for Angel if he met someone he liked—absolutely no jealousy AT ALL.)

Angel: "A vibe? Really? (change of tone to serious) No. Nothing happened."

Cordelia: "You _so_ like her, don't you?"

Angel: "Maybe we should insure it. You can do that with packages, right?"

Cordelia: "Or maybe you should call her and ask her how she'd like you to send it."

Wesley: "Call who?"

Cordelia: "Miranda."

Wesley: "Oh, did she get off alright? I never got that card from her—that weapons' dealer friend of hers."

Angel: "I think so—she left early this morning."

Cordelia: "Maybe when you _call_ her, you could get the address of the shop for Wesley."

Wesley: "Why are you calling her again?"

Cordelia: "Because Miranda, according to Angel here, just inexplicably took off her cross necklace last night, after telling me yesterday that she never takes it off, for no apparent reason, most definitely _not_ because she wanted to make out with a vampire, and then she just left it here—and certainly _not_ because she would want a certain vampire to call her or better yet to _bring it_ to her."

Wesley: (having no clue what she's talking about) "What?"

Angel: "Maybe the clasp broke—or the chain and it just slipped off."

Cordelia: (inspecting the necklace) "Nope—not broken."

Wesley: "What's this all about?"

Cordelia: "Angel likes Miranda. They hooked up."

Angel: (frustrated) "Sometimes, Cordelia, you...We did not 'hook up'. Just pack up the necklace."

Wesley: (playing along) "Interesting. So you say she never takes it off? And there it was..."

Angel: "Don't encourage her. Is there any more coffee?"

Cordelia: "Why, didn't get much sleep last night?" (Now it's just a joke.)

Frighteningly stern look from Angel

Cordelia: "Ok, ok. Geez. Things have just been so serious around here lately—I'm just trying to lighten the mood a little. I think I've got a box somewhere."

She starts looking for the box. A few minutes go by. Angel is drinking his coffee. Wes leaves the room for a minute. Cordy comes back in with a box and starts packing up the necklace. Angel looks a little sheepish and says:

Angel: "So you think I should call her?"

A huge grin spreads across Cordy's face.

Cordelia: "You _like_ her."

He frowns and walks out of the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Scene 9

Miranda's house. Buffy, Anya, Xander, Dawn, Willow and Tara are walking up to the door. They are carrying three pizzas.

Willow: "Cordelia called and said she left L.A. the day before yesterday—something about a necklace she left—they haven't been able to reach her at the shop."

Anya: "She hasn't been in to the shop at all. Don't know how she thinks she can earn any money if her shop is never open."

Buffy: "You've tried calling her here, right? Maybe she's turned the ringer off or something. Let's hope pizza does the trick."

Dawn: "So this is like a pizza intervention."

Xander: "More like a 'welcome home—sorry you were kidnapped and tortured by demons' pizza party."

Tara: "Has anyone seen Spike? You don't think she...you don't think he's gone, do you?"

Willow: "I don't know. Cordelia didn't actually say much—well, that was relevant."

Xander: "But that would be a good thing, right?"

Buffy: "Sure, in the long run, but for now it could mean she's in one heck of a funk."

Willow: "Enough with the idle speculation already. Someone ring the bell."

Xander: "What is it about this house that always leads me to expect Lurch to answer the door?"

Dawn finally pushes the doorbell. They wait. Nothing. She rings it again. After a few minutes, lights come on and finally Miranda comes to the door. She is in sweats and a robe.

Anya: "God, you look _awful_."

Miranda: "It's been a long week"

Buffy: "Can we come in? We brought pizza."

Miranda: "The place is still a mess. I will have everyone over for a proper dinner party once I'm settled. (contemplating for a moment) Sure. I could eat pizza."

Xander: "Pizza _is_ the miracle food, isn't it? It's right for any occasion."

They come in and everyone sits in the livingroom. They dive into the pizza. Miranda looks tired and lazily chews on a slice.

Buffy: "We heard about what happened—Cordelia called. I guess you're still recovering. I still can't believe you killed Drusilla."

Miranda: "You should probably take credit for that one—the whole thing, actually. In case anyone asks. Better for everyone if they think the Slayer did it, don't you think?"

Buffy: "I don't know. I guess so. Whatever you want."

Miranda: (to Willow and Tara) "I was going to call you—I found a hidden room when I was doing some exploring yesterday. It's full of spell books and things. If you want, you can come by some evening this week and take a look."

Willow: "Groovy. That would be great. Thanks."

Awkward silence as everyone just sits and eats.

Anya: "Where's Spike?"

Dawn: (annoyed) "Anya."

Anya: "I was just wondering what happened to Spike."

Miranda: (pained voice) "He's not here."

Anya: "It's just that I helped him look for you. When you disappeared. We looked for you for days. I came up with the idea of calling the morgues. He was distraught. I don't think he ate or slept the entire time—he just kept smoking (she shudders). He was out of his mind looking for you. (pause) So did you kill him?"

Miranda: "What?"

Anya: "Oh, they were just talking outside and someone wondered if you might have killed him and I just thought it would be really mean of you if you did because he tried so hard to find you and all."

Miranda: "No. No, of course not. He was in L.A. when I left." (She's looking really guilty.)

Dawn: "So did you two break up or something?"

Miranda: "Uh. I don't feel up to talking about it right now. If you don't mind, I'm quite tired. (Indicating that she'd like to be alone) I do appreciate you stopping by."

They all get up to leave. Miranda stops Anya and gives her a hug (being Anya, she doesn't quite know how to respond).

Miranda: "Thanks for helping."

Over the next couple of days, Miranda pulls herself together somewhat and goes out. She's still not at full strength—the healing process always takes longer when she's sad. Still, she ventures out alone—she tries to pretend (and convince herself) that she's not looking for Spike, but after going to the Bronze one night and not seeing him, the next night, she decides to hit the demon bar (it's hard to come up with reason to go there unless she thinks she might run into him). She's sitting at the bar, drinking steadily, looking rather depressed. Some guy tries to buy her a drink—she refuses. He comes over to her.

Miranda: "I'm going to stop you right there to save us both some time. Really not interested in this."

Guy: "Pretty girl like you, drinking alone at the bar—you must be looking for something."

Miranda: "Perhaps I am simply a drunk."

Guy: "You're no drunk. No, I think you're looking for someone and I don't see how you know that it isn't me"

Miranda: "Trust me. You're not my type."

Guy: "So what is your type?

Miranda: "Oh, I don't know. Blonde, smart, quick-witted, attractive. Pretty much everything you're not."

Guy: "Ooh, that's quite a wicked tongue you've got—gets me hot to think what you could do with it."

Miranda: (disgusted) "Listen, I am not playing hard to get here. My tongue isn't going anywhere near that cold, undead body of yours, so why not bugger off and leave me to my scotch, right?"

Guy: "or, what?"

Miranda: "or...nothing. I'm not in the mood for this. Give a girl a break and let me drink?"

After getting a scolding look from the bartender, the guy leaves. He goes back to his group of friends and they look menacingly at Miranda. After she finishes her drink, she decides to leave. She lights a cigarette in the alley and sure enough, the guys from the bar have followed her out. There are four of them—pretty big. She's in a bad spot and they are quickly able to corner her.

Miranda: (acting calm) "So what exactly can I do for you gentleman?"

G2: "My brother here tells me you were rude to him. Doesn't seem right for a human to go into a demon bar and be rude—all he wanted was to buy you a drink."

Miranda: "First, (to G1) do you always have your brother help you get dates? Can't see how that is a good strategy in the long run and second, I'm not human."

G3: "I've seen you before. You're Spike's girlfriend. Or should I say _was_?"

Miranda: "I wouldn't say we're at 'was' exactly."

G1: "You prefer _that_ pathetic toothless wus-vampire to us? Now that is doubly rude."

G2: "Yeah, I think you owe my brother an apology."

Miranda: "I don't owe anyone anything. And I'd like to hear you call him that to his face."

G3: (laughs) "We're not afraid of Spike."

Miranda: "Isn't that interesting. You should be. If he were here, he'd lay you all flat before you idiots even knew what hit you. But since he isn't, I suppose I'll have to."

They start to close in on her.

Miranda: (looking slightly nervous) "You know, I did just take out a whole NEST of your sort a few days ago—must've been 30 of 'em. All dust now. So listen, I'm a reasonable woman—guy shouldn't have to get his ass kicked for buying the wrong lady a drink. Why don't we just forget this whole thing happened?"

G2: "What do you think, boys? I know I'm scared."

Miranda: "Did I mention that the Slayer is a good friend of mine—practically sisters, so you might want to reconsider..."

She grabs for a piece of wood—before she gets it, one of them kicks her and knocks her down. She obviously has trouble getting up—she's weak. One of them pulls her up and pins her against the wall.

Miranda: "Ok, ok, you can buy me a drink. Let's just... (She kicks him in the balls and tries to slip away. Another one grabs her)

G1: "oh, change of plans. Now you _are_ the drink."

Suddenly we hear Spike's voice say:

Spike: "You got something to say to me, Jimmie? I heard a rumor that you wanted to tell me something. A'course everyone knows you're all mouth and no trousers."

One of them charges Spike—he quickly kicks his ass and tosses him aside.

G3/Jimmie: "We don't want any trouble, Spike. We were just going to take care of your girlfriend for you, you know, since you weren't around. But since you're back, we'll just..." (they turn and run away)

Spike: "Wasn't going to interrupt—four seemed a walk in the park compared to last time—but looked like you weren't quite up for it."

Miranda: "I was bloody stupid and forgot my sword at home—that and I'm not quite recovered."

Spike: (bitter) "Funny, you looked recovered when you left me."

Miranda: "I...it was temporary fix. Wore off."

Spike: "Oh. Right then. Guess I'll be on my way." (He starts to walk past her)

Miranda: "Spike, wait. (He stops and turns toward her) Did you just get back?"

Spike: "Last night. Slept at a friends."

Miranda: "Oh. (pause. frown.) Are you mad with me? For killing her?"

Spike: "What? No. I'd have done the same thing in your place. I'm mad because you took off like that. (beat) Were you mad with me for telling them about Claude and his pals?"

Miranda: "No. I mean, I'd rather you hadn't, but it wouldn't have made much difference. I had to kill them all because I couldn't put the others in danger—it wouldn't have ended with Claude."

Spike: "So..."

Just then, a few people walk out of the bar, followed by others coming in—it's suddenly seeming conspicuously not private.

Miranda: "So, do you want to go someplace to talk?"

Spike: "Back to the house?"

Miranda: "We can't. Willow and Tara are raiding the spell books left behind by the previous owner. What about your old place?"

Spike: "Someone's probably squatting already, but we could give it a go."

They set off. They walk in silence—all sorts of restrained emotions. They arrive and open the door of the crypt. It's a mess and there are two vamps playing cards inside.

Spike: "Sorry boys. Need my flat back for a bit. D'you mind?"

V: "uh, yeah. Finders keepers, Spike. We're in the middle of a game."

Spike: "Love what you've done with the place—you grow up in a barn? It's a bloody mess. Come on, give us a minute (gives a glance back indicating Miranda). Me and the bird have to work a few things out."

V: "Dream on. Find your own bed."

Spike: (to Miranda) "Tried to be nice. Asked politely, didn't I?"

Miranda: "You most certainly did."

Spike: "Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way."

Next thing we see is the two vamps being thrown out the door and the door slamming shut behind them. More silence, as neither of them seem to know where to begin. Finally it's Spike who talks first.

Spike: (frustrated) "So what's this all about, then? I tried to figure it out myself, but a bloke could lose his mind trying to understand what goes on in the heads of women. The way I see it, you disappeared, I went out of my head trying to find you—even asked for the help of a guy I HATE with a twisted passion—I find you, rescue you and granted, failed miserably trying to take your revenge, but still, it's the thought, right? Instead of a hug and a kiss, I get "I need some time to think" and the sight of your back as you walk _away _from me. So if you're not mad about the 'Claude' thing, then I just don't get it."

Miranda: "You didn't protest all that much, as I remember. It was pretty easy to walk away."

Spike: (very frustrated) "THERE WAS A LOT THAT JUST HAPPENED. Maybe it wasn't as easy as I thought to watch her die like that. And just a day before, I'd seen you lying there, cold—(softening) I didn't expect it to hurt so much. (Back to a touch of bitterness/anger/frustration) Maybe that just freaked me out a little. Sorry."

Miranda: "I didn't know you saw me like that. (tearing up) I wanted you to be there when I woke up—I knew you'd come for me, but then instead of you, I had bloody Angel hovering over. I thought about you every minute. But she said things. And he said things. Everything was just so confused. I know how hard it must have been to ask for help—_his_ help. And of course you'd still feel something for her—you were with her for a bloody century—s'pose I'd worry more if you felt nothing. But the thing is...I _hate_ that you loved her. And not because of jealously—at least not mostly—but because she's just so...psychotic and, well, for lack of a better word, _evil_. And so you spent a hundred years loving this woman and doing the kinds of things she likes to do and so I couldn't help make the leap that it could've been you. What she and her boyfriend did to me—that could have easily been you instead of fingernail boy doing that to someone like me."

Spike: "So_ that's_ what this is about? You're upset because I'm evil and I did evil things. Sorry, but I thought you'd covered this with Buffy and were Ok with it. (aside) And trust me, you have no idea how hard it was to go to soul-boy for help."

Miranda: (Ignoring his last comment, though feeling a deep twinge of guilt) "I guess I never took the time to consider the specifics of it. (Looking at him) So would you have?"

Spike: "Yeah, alright. If Dru and I never broke up and I never got this chip in my head, sure I'd have thought this was a decent enough plan. We did worse together. But a lot's happened. I don't think the same as I did then and you and I do _different_ things together. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you now, right? So what does it matter?"

Miranda doesn't say anything. She's obviously going through some inner turmoil.

Spike: (building frustration) "So what, you're going to break up with me over this? Over something I would have done if I were dating someone else. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. You're going to break up with me because I'm evil, even though you knew that going in."

Miranda: "It's more complicated than that." (Geez, how many times can you use the word 'complicated' to describe something in one week?)

Spike: "So just explain to me why this matters—why this changes things."

She thinks about it for a bit. Suddenly she realizes something.

Miranda: "It doesn't. (Almost to herself) I don't care, not really. But shouldn't I? I mean, what does that say about me that it _doesn't_ matter?"

Spike: "Here we go. Why are you torturing yourself, love? Is this what having a soul is all about? Because frankly, it just seems to take the fun out of everything. I mean, you didn't do anything evil, well except me, and here you are, filled with guilt." (There's pounding on the door—the vamps want their space back. Spike walks over to the door. Spike: "Fuck off. We're talking in here, you tossers". He starts pulling a cigarette out of a pack as he walks back over.)

Miranda: (softly, almost to herself) "I didn't do anything—but I do love something evil."

Spike: (He looks up from what he was doing—not quite sure he heard her. He cocks his head) "What did you say?"

Miranda: (She swallows hard, looks him dead in the eye) "I love you, Spike."

He puts down the pack of cigarettes and moves in closer to her—she's leaning against the wall.

Spike: (Gently touching her neck with his hand as he looks at her intently) "Your heart is beating so fast."

Miranda: (Her breathing is a bit irregular as well) "Well, I'm a bit nervous. I've never been the first one to say it before and you could say something dreadful like "thank you" or "that's lovely, how's about a shag?""

Spike: (toying with her just a little; trying to be casual, even though it is obviously HUGE for him) "It's not like it's news. You've loved me for weeks now, I'm sure of it."

Miranda: (She lets out a little laugh) "I should beat you, really, you hateful man." (She goes to playfully push him away. He stops her.)

Spike: "I love you."

Miranda: (with a tear) "Yeah?" (They kiss and then smile at each other. Suddenly, the door bursts open—the vamps brought a couple of friends to break down the door.)

Spike: "Do you mind? We're kind of having a moment here."

They start moving menacingly toward M&S—who completely ignore them and continue kissing. As they get closer...

Miranda: "I guess we're going to have do deal with these losers, aren't we?"

Spike: "Such a shame. Let's make it quick."

Together they knock one or two of them down. As they move towards the door...

Spike: "Now normally, I'd be quite happy to stay and soundly kick each and every one of your asses. But tonight, I've got me some make-up sex to look forward to, so...(He grabs Miranda's hand and they run out the door. As soon as they are a few yards away, Miranda jumps up and wraps her legs around Spike—she puts her hands around his neck as he carries her.)

Miranda: "Make-up sex, huh? Mmm. I'm thinking that I'm not going to be opening the shop for a few more days."

Spike: "A few days? I'll do my best."

Lots of smooching and general affection as they slowly make their way out of the graveyard. Miranda pulls back a moment.

Miranda: "We still have things to talk about. Seriously. I think we need to be more upfront about stuff."

Spike: "Yeah. Talking. Maybe _after_. (Noticing her serious look) Okay. More talking. Promise."

More affection. After a bit, Miranda hops down and stops the forward progression.

Miranda: "ooh. There_ is_ one more thing. It's kind of big. (Scrunching up her nose) I shagged someone."

Spike: (surprised) "What, since Tuesday?"

Miranda: (shrugs) "When I was in LA. I just needed something, you know—needed to be touched. It wasn't anything, really."

Spike: (considering) "Huh. (beat) So can I kill him?"

Miranda: "Nah. But you can have a retaliatory shag with someone if you want sometime—s'long as it isn't Buffy. (beat) And who said it was a he?"

Spike: (laughs and then shrugs it off) "Was it that Immortal bloke—the one outside the cave when I came out?"

Miranda: (About to vehemently deny it, but then decides to just let him think it—surely better than the truth) "Could be—but you know I won't tell you. Are we OK?"

Spike: "Yeah—you can make it up to me in sexual favors."

Miranda: "Oh, I will. You know what we need? Champagne. We've got cause to celebrate."

Spike carries Miranda on his back into town—she claims she too worn out to walk. They get to a liquor store and find it's closed. Miranda gets the idea to buy a couple of bottles from the Bronze—bars will sell whole bottles sometimes. So they go there. Just inside...

Miranda: "I'm off to the loo. Get two bottles of the best they have." (She kisses him and hands him her wallet.)

He stands at the bar and talks to the bartender, who fishes out a couple of bottles from the fridge. While Spike is waiting for Miranda to get out of the bathroom, he notices Xander and Anya at a table on the other side of the room. He then notices Buffy standing at the bar just a few feet from him. He grabs the bottles and walks over to her—he sets them down on the bar in front of her—she's obviously waiting for a drink. He looks at her without saying anything. Buffy can tell something is different.

Buffy: "What? What do you _want_, Spike?"

Spike: (Grinning in an almost evil way) "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Buffy: "What's the occasion?" (Commenting on the bottles)

Just then Miranda arrives

Miranda: "We're going home. And just so you know, we won't be answering the phone." (They walk away and Buffy gets her drinks and just looks confused, like 'What was THAT all about?')

They arrive at the house. Willow and Tara are still there. M&S don't notice them as they head to the kitchen to put the champagne bottles in the fridge—they are kissing and groping and laughing the whole time. Once in the kitchen, they put the bottles down and just stand there for a minute, kissing.

Spike: "Tell me again."

Miranda: (giggling) "I love you."

Spike: "Once more"

Miranda: "I love you. Boy, you sure are needy. How many more times do I have to say it?"

Spike: "Couple of hundred—at least. Probably more."

Miranda: (more serious this time) "I love you."

They hear a cough and notice that W & T have been standing there, apparently waiting to say something.

Willow: "Uh. Yeah, so, uh sorry to interrupt. There are some really cool books in that room and we haven't finished going through them yet, so..."

Miranda: "You can stay a while if you want—we'll just be downstairs. Oh, but we'll likely be kind of loud."

Willow is paralyzed by this bit of information and has a look of horror on her face. Tara finishes the thought.

Tara: "Actually, we were wondering if we could take some of them back with us."

Miranda: (in a rush) "Yeah, sure. Take care."

She and Spike grab a bottle and head to the basement/bedroom. W & T shrug and pack up the books and leave quickly. Downstairs, things start heating up—it's almost pitch black and there's the sound of ripping clothing. After a few minutes, you hear someone grappling with a lamp.

Spike: (in a whisper) "I want to see you."

Miranda: "Spike, no, let's keep it off tonight."

Spike: "Nonsense" (And with this the light pops on. Miranda is in her underwear on the bed—you can still see the now somewhat faded bite marks and puncture wounds covering her body. She quickly pulls the sheet over her. Spike is suddenly serious and sad, as he pulls back the sheet to look. He touches some of the scars softly with his hands) "I'm so sorry, M. I didn't know there were so many..."

Miranda: "It's Ok. They'll heal. (pause) Thanks for looking—thanks for_ finding_ me."

He starts to kiss each fading wound, one at a time. After a while, he reaches her face and kisses the cut on her cheek.

Spike: "That one's darker than the rest." (He moves his finger gently from end to end of the forming scar.)

Miranda: "My face—my head is the most human part of me. It won't heal like the rest—I'll have a scar."

Spike: (suspecting her insecurity) "Adds character."

He kisses her softly on the lips. Everything about the way he touches her has a delicate sadness to it. He runs his hands through her hair and down her neck. He undoes the front clasp of her bra and pulls it off. Then his hands smoothly travel down her torso and under her panties—keeping with the continuous motion, he pulls them down and off. Unlike how they started, the mood is less passion and greed and yet deliberate and somehow more intense. She is also uncharacteristically passive—not in a disinterested way, but more calm surrender. When they are both naked, he returns to kiss her on the lips. He takes her hands and clasps them at the level of her head. He pulls back slightly and they stare at each other a moment. Without breaking eye contact or letting go of her hands, he positions himself and pushes inside her—her eyes half close in response. Keeping this exact position, their lower bodies begin to move rhythmically together as he thrusts into her. As they continue like this, her breath begins to quicken and their hands clasp more tightly together—still their stare is unbroken. His muscles begin to tense as the pace of the thrusting increases—soon his eyes half close and a small groan escapes his throat as he pushes into her harder still and holds himself there, releasing into her, never breaking their gaze. When he's finished, he kisses her deeply as his body relaxes onto hers. Their hands loosen their grip and she quickly puts her arms around him and pulls him tightly to her. He moves off her of her, onto his side. They lay there in silence for a while. 


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Ok, so I must admit that this is mostly a fluff chapter written to amuse my betas more than anything. It has sexual situations, but it relatively tame.

Scene 10

A while later, still in the bedroom. A bottle of champagne and two half-full glasses are on the bedside table—we have some background music—the mood is decidedly lighter. Spike is on his back with the sheet covering his lower body. His eyes are closed and he's looking very happy—he is loosely gripping the wooden slats of the headboard. It's rather obvious that Miranda is underneath the sheet, between his legs. Soon, his expression changes from a smile/smirk to a deep frown/snarl, as the intensity of his pleasure increases. The muscles of his chest and arms flex as he grips the headboard tightly. In the final moment, he inhales sharply, throws his head back and rips the slats he was gripping from the headboard (oops). He relaxes and starts to laugh—his arms fall to the side and his grip loosens on the now free wooden bits from the bed. Miranda's head peeks up from the sheets, as she kisses his stomach and chest, moving upwards.

Spike: "uh. (brief laugh). Ummm. Uh."

Miranda: "Like that, did you?"

Spike: "uh. I broke the bed."

Miranda: (Seeing the pieces of wood still in his hands) "So you did. That good?"

Spike: "um. I BROKETHEBED"

Miranda: "hm. Hadn't actually considered that possibility. Perhaps I should have gone for a solid backboard. Still so much to learn about dating a vampire."

Spike: (still breathless and out-of-it) "I broke the bed."

Miranda: "I see that. (Pleased by his obvious mind-blown state) Haven't I done that for you before? (He shakes his head—still not recovered) Such a selfish girl, I must be."

Spike: "Talented girl, more like."

Miranda: "What, better than your vampire hoochies?"

Spike: "Let's just say it wasn't tops on the list of things we did. Something about razor sharp teeth and sensitive blood filled organs, if said organs are one's own—sorta hard to get past that."

Miranda: "I see what you mean. (She reaches over and grabs a champagne glass. He's still looking at the ceiling) So what's next?"

Spike: "Give me a minute, love. I'm nearly as old as you."

Miranda: "No rest for the wicked. And if that's true for the wicked, then I'm all but sure there's no rest for the evil dead. How about a bath?"

Spike: (skeptical) "What, with bubbles?"

Miranda: "There can be bubbles."

Spike: (indifferent) "Sounds Ok. But don't make it too hot—I've got sensitive skin."

Miranda: (laughs) "I'll be sure to throw in some bath beads for you, you big girl. Meet me upstairs."

A while later, in the upstairs bathroom. We see Miranda at one end of a large claw-foot tub—her eyes are closed and she's up to her shoulders in bubbles. The room is lit with candles. Her arm is loosely draped along the edge of the tub, with a champagne glass held loosely in her hand. Everything is very quiet and peaceful. It appears as though she is fantasizing or something—she bites her lip and lets out a small moan. Suddenly, she lets the glass drop—it shatters on the floor—she doesn't notice. After a moment, she inhales sharply and scrunches up her face. She lets out a tiny whimper as she exhales and inhales a few times very quickly. Then she starts to giggle as she sinks a bit further under the bubbles. In a moment, Spike emerges from under the water and leans back against the other end of the tub, looking pleased with himself.)

Spike: "You dropped your glass. Ask me nicely and I'll let you share mine."

Miranda: (still giggling) "So I initially had 'doesn't breathe' as one of the negatives about dating a vampire, but now, I'm thinking of swapping it over to the 'benefits' column."

Spike: "There are columns?"

Miranda: "Well, sort of."

Spike: "So what else is on this list?"

Miranda: (busted) "No fair to ask about such things while I'm in the throes of passion."

Spike: "Hey, you were the one who made such a thing about adding 'talk' to the make-up sexathon. I'm just trying to do my part."

Miranda: (smiling) "That is such bollocks—now shut up and pass me the champagne."

Tthey both take a drink and sit for a minute in silence.

Miranda: "Ok"

Spike: "What, Ok?'"

Miranda: "Ok, I'm ready for talking now."

Spike: (sarcastic) "Fantastic. You start."

Miranda: "I used to do that professionally, you know."

Spike: (considering) "huh. Not too surprising—(smirking) you do have a knack for it." (It's obvious he thinks she's talking about sex.)

Miranda: (offended; splashing him) "No, not _that_. Fighting. (aside) Well, that too, but it's not what I'm talking about. Didn't you think it odd that I was able to kick so much ass the other night?"

Spike: "Uh, didn't consider it much, actually. Figured you were just really pissed off."

Miranda: "Well, there was a time when I was kind of like a mercenary. I trained very hard to be able to fight like that. (mildly irritated) You know, come to think of it, you've never really asked me anything about my past. Don't you care what I did or who I was before I met you?"

Spike: (shrugging.) "Not especially. Don't see why it's important—seems better to know who you are now."

Miranda: (She scrunches up her face, considering this. Still mildly frustrated at his attitude, she decides to let it go.) "So I was thinking maybe of doing a bit more of it. Fighting. Maybe I could help Buffy sometimes. You know, a bit more regularly."

Spike: "Don't see why not—you obviously like kicking ass."

Miranda: (Jumping to the next topic) "So why did you and Dru break up? Was it because of the chip?"

Spike: (Looking a bit annoyed himself) "Anything but Dru tonight, alright? (pause) It was before the chip."

Miranda: "Ok, maybe we could start by just getting a few more things out in the open. What's the WORST thing you've ever done?"

Spike: "Well, that's a loaded question. 'Worst' depends on your perspective."

Miranda: "What's the thing you're most proud of?"

Spike: "I think you know the answer to that."

Miranda: 'hm. The first or the second?"

Spike: (considering) "First. Changed everything."

Miranda: "Do you regret anything?"

Spike: (thinking) "Went behind Dru's back once—conspired against her out of jealousy. Never trusted me after that."

Miranda: "Your turn."

Spike: (Thinks of something and grins) "How many men have you had sex with?"

Miranda: (good eye roll) "I am going to pretend that you didn't just ask that. Try again."

Spike: (more serious) "How many men have you loved?"

Miranda: "Two."

Spike: "The man in the picture—was he the first or the last man you killed?"

Miranda: "First. Changed everything."

Spike: "Regrets?"

Miranda: "Too many to count."

Spike: "I think that's enough talking for one day. And, you know, I'm starting to prune, so..."

He stands up, steps out of the tub (dripping wet) and grabs a towel—instead of wrapping it around himself, he looks at her expectantly. She gets up and out—he pulls her wet body into his and they kiss—he takes the towel and puts it around her, making a half-hearted attempt to dry her off.

Miranda: "We've made quite a puddle. (Looking at the clock on the wall) We should get back downstairs—it'll be light soon and I haven't had a chance to put the blinds on the windows up here yet."

Spike: "Maybe if we were right up against that wall over there, it'd be ok—I'm not as sensitive to that as I once was, remember?" (He moves her in that direction...)

Sometime later—at night.

Spike and Miranda are in bed, watching TV. The phone rings. It's Buffy. She's calling to ask for Spike's help with something and can he meet her at the Magic Box. He doesn't really want to go, but Miranda talks him into it—they've been naked for three days—it's about time to get up and out of bed. He heads off. About 5 minutes after he leaves, the doorbell rings. It's Buffy. Turns out it was all a ruse to get Spike out of the house so Buffy could talk to Miranda.

Buffy: "So what's this I hear about the two of you throwing around the 'L' word like a couple of hippies at a Dead show?"

Miranda: "Ah, witches sure like to gossip, don't they?"

Buffy: "You shouldn't encourage him like that—it's dangerous."

Miranda: "But I meant it. I love him."

Buffy: (Getting that 'this can't be happening' look on her face) "But. but. I...you do? What happened to fun? What happened to 'relationship'. Suddenly it's LOVE?"

Miranda: "It's bloody fantastic, isn't it? Took me entirely by surprise as well. I'm used to the kind of love that's so intense, it's painful and melodramatic and all-consuming and frankly rather miserable. But this is different—this is fun and happy and brilliant. Well, mostly. There is that evil, soul-less thing, but I'm choosing not to think about that right now."

Buffy: "Come on, Miranda. You need to end this now."

Miranda: (Trying to make her understand) "You know what I do the first time I meet a man? Any man? I instantly figure out what he wants and I file that information away for later use. It's quite a skill, but I've got it down pat. I don't even have to think about it anymore. It's been a useful skill to have. If ever I need something or want something, all I have to do is give the man what he wants—be the woman he wants me to be and sure enough I get what I'm after. Occasionally in the past, what I've wanted has been his love. But the fact that I do that—that I can't stop myself from doing it means that I'm not quite sure who it is he loves—me or the woman I am when I'm with him. I lose track of what's me and what's his. But Spike was different. I had no idea what a bloody vampire wants—no clue at all. So I went in knowing nothing and I expected nothing. And here we are, months later and I've got what I didn't know I wanted. It's fantastic."

Buffy: (very serious—genuine) "Listen, there's something you need to know. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Spike's using you."

Miranda: (skeptical) "Using me."

Buffy: "He's using you to get to me. He's in love with me."

Miranda: "Was."

Buffy: "What?"

Miranda: "_Was_ in love with you."

Buffy: (Ignoring this for the moment) "God, this is so hard. In his twisted mind he thinks that my seeing you two have this sort-of normal relationship will make me jealous."

Miranda: "Right. And has his nefarious plan worked?"

Buffy: (eye roll) "no. NO! (maybe a bit too emphatic) I'm sorry I didn't tell you before—I honestly had no idea he would take it this far...and now to hear you say that you love him." (She's getting kind of vecklempt—she genuinely feels bad about not having told Miranda before.)

Miranda: (maternal) "oh, Buffy. Dear girl. You can put your pretty little head at ease. It's all taken care of."

Buffy: (confused) "Taken care of?"

Miranda: "Put to rest."

Buffy: "huh?"

Miranda: "Americans—always have to spell everything out, don't you. (sigh) We've talked about it—we've moved on—he's moved on. I expect he still has feelings for you, but I'm quite confident that it is in no way affecting our relationship now."

Buffy: "oh. _Oh_. (Not quite sure what to say to that) Uh, wind kinda gone from sails."

Miranda: "I appreciate the thought—thanks for stopping by."

Buffy: "But...um...(small voice)...but he's evil and stuff."

Miranda: "Don't worry, Buffy. As the teenagers say, it's all good. Oh, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind my sitting in the next time you and Giles have a training session—I think maybe we could learn from each other." (She is encouraging Buffy towards the door)

Buffy: "Sure. Tomorrow afternoon? (she's now at the door) But...um...yeah, I'm pretty sure there's another reason why this 'love' thing is a bad idea, only I can't quite think of it now—I'll talk to Giles."

Miranda: "Cheers. Have a good night" (She closes the door in Buffy's face.)

(30 minutes later, Spike returns)

Spike: "Did Buffy call? Because no one was at the Magic Box. (Seeing her, disappointed) Aw, you're dressed."

Miranda: "It was a ruse."

Spike: "A what?"

Miranda: "A ruse to get you out of the house. Buffy wanted to talk to me."

Spike: "What for?"

Miranda: "Oh, something about it all being about her."

Spike: "She does that a lot."

Miranda: "I blame Giles—all that 'chosen one' business is likely to give any girl a big head."

Spike: (Thinking of something) "Oh, this was in the mailbox." (He hands her a small package.)

Miranda: "That's odd. It's addressed, but there's no post-mark." (She opens it—inside is her cross necklace.)

Spike: "What's that, then?"

Miranda: "Oh, my necklace—the clasp must have broken when I was at the hotel." (She quickly breaks the clasp without Spike noticing and then shows it to him.)

Spike: "Seems kind of cheap to send it regular mail."

Miranda: "hm."

She walks over to the window and has a look outside.

End scene

Miscellaneous Scenes/Summary

Gentle readers: I am about to skip over another set of scenes. Why? Well, because I want to get to the next big action sequence and for some reason, I couldn't get the full scenes to work properly. So I am just going to verbally describe them here in summary form. I may decide to write them out as real scenes at a later time.

Summary: Time passes rather uneventfully for a while. Miranda recovers—she is initially a bit squeamish about the biting after the whole Drusilla incident. She still has some stored blood from before (hers) and she also manages to steal some blood from time to time from local hospitals and blood banks (unbeknownst to the Scoobies, of course)—she's good at doing the fake doctor thing. I see them having a nice little system—blood bags in the freezer (marked as either M (Miranda) or O (other) and a blood warmer thingy also taken from a hospital (works better than a microwave :)). After some time, she gets over it (the squeamishness) and things go back to the way they were with occasional biting—the first time, she comments that she hadn't realized just how gentle he was with her until she felt the pain of a 'real' bite in LA. They haven't told anyone else about Spike's newfound reflections and such. Miranda does do some training with Buffy—mostly weapons stuff. It's a little hard because although she's tough and wants to really spar with Buffy (without the puffy Xander suit), Buffy is much stronger and occasionally gets a good punch in. Still, Miranda is making an effort to tune her fighting skills (non-weapon) and help out from time to time with patrolling and such—and she teaches Buffy a few things as well (things she's been dying to say for a while, but hasn't, about Buffy's fighting style). There was a cute scene where Miranda had the gang over for dinner—she cooks and gives them all little presents for helping her with the move and generally being so welcoming to her since she moved into town. All the presents are clever and appropriate. She gives Spike a masculine chain in case he wants to wear the locket his sister gave him.

Quickie scene 1

10am at Miranda's house. She comes walking down the stairs into the hallway on the first floor—it's obvious she was just in the bathroom getting dressed and putting on make-up. She is wearing a fairly conservative, elegant spring dress—a bit more formal than a sundress. Her hair is up and she is carrying a hat. She is wearing her cross necklace. She walks into the kitchen and is surprised to see Spike standing there with a mug.

Miranda: "A rather ridiculous hour for a vampire to be up, don't you think?"

Spike: "Not intentional, believe me. Phone rang while you were drying your hair. Dawn—says she's running a bit late and will just have Xander drop her off here. (Suddenly noticing how Miranda is dressed) What're you dressed like that for?"

Miranda: (offended) "Like what?"

Spike: "Like a librarian—with a bit of school teacher tossed in."

Miranda: "I do _not_ look like a librarian. Not every dress I wear needs to be black with a plunging neckline."

Spike: "Oh, I beg to differ."

Miranda: "This is a perfectly acceptable outfit for this time of day. Fashionable too, in a sloan ranger kind of way."

Spike: "Maybe with a bit of alteration..." (He saunters over to her.)

Miranda: (Playfully pushing him away) "Go back to bed, love. You can alter it all you like when I get back. I need to look respectable."

Spike: "Get back from where?"

Miranda: (hesitating for a moment) "I'm taking Dawn out for a nice lunch."

Spike: (skeptical) "And you have to look respectable for Dawn?"

Miranda: (Resigned. Sigh.) It's Easter Sunday—I'm taking Dawn to church with me."

Spike sprays what he was drinking from the mug, laughing.

Spike: "Ok. Right. _Church_. (Obviously not believing her) You planning a surprise for me or something—going shopping to buy me a present?"

Miranda: "I'm perfectly serious and I don't see what's so funny."

Spike: "It's funny because it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. (Shaking his head, skeptically) _Church_."

Miranda: (She just gives him a look and puts on her hat) "This look ok? It's been ages since I wore a hat."

Spike: (Suddenly realizing she is serious) "You can't go to church."

Miranda: "Why not?"

Spike: "Hello, living with a vampire—cavorting with the evil dead. Don't know as that's specifically forbidden, but I'd take a wild guess that 'acceptable' wouldn't be the word they'd use."

Miranda: "I'm not actually planning on talking to anyone."

Spike: "That's not the point. It's just not right, is all. You don't see me sneaking off to go to some BIG EVIL powwow, plotting the end of the world. I thought we had an understanding—meet in the middle sort of thing."

Miranda: "Don't be silly, William. This is simply something I _do_."

Spike: "But what if they brainwash you and you come back spewing all sorts of born-again bollocks?"

Miranda: "It's a catholic church—they don't do that sort of thing. _Catholics_ would send me back with crosses, holy water and probably an exorcist of some sort—straight to business. But it's not going to happen."

Spike: (This obviously bothers him--after a moment of concentrated thought.) "I forbid you to go."

Miranda: "Whoa there. Forbid me? I am going to do my best to forget you said that."

Spike: (annoyed) "Or you could _do your best_ to stay at home."

Miranda: "I made a promise—I'm keeping it. That's all it is. Twice year—Easter and Christmas."

Spike: "To who? (She gives him a 'you should be able to figure it out' look. He gets it) But he's dead, right? It's not like he's going to know the difference—promise or not."

Miranda: "_I'd_ know the difference. I'm going. (bitter) Remind me not to ask you for anything on my deathbed." (Just then there is a car horn—Dawn has arrived)

Spike: (point taken, but still bitter) "Fine. (As she's walking out the door—saving face) But don't expect any slap and tickle when you get back."

Quick summary #2

(Author's note: It occurs to me that this sounds ridiculously silly in short form. Whatever. Consider it an outline.)

A few weeks later, Miranda gets a visit from a pair of men—one very old blind man in a wheelchair and a younger man who cares for him. They go to her shop, but she isn't there and they end up going into the Magic shop instead. Giles calls M at home and she comes over (with S). Turns out, both the men are priests and they've traveled from Europe. The old man is dying and is suffering a bit from dementia. The younger man explains (somewhat apologetically?) that the old man insisted on traveling here to see Miranda—he believes that she is a heavenly creature of some sort and wants to see her before he dies. Miranda is livid when she learns where the men are from and what Order they belong to. She explains that in the last few years of his life, her husband was affected by the treatments he was receiving and became mentally 'a bit off' as she described it. He became increasingly involved in the church and in his conversations with their local priest divulged some of the details of Miranda's existence. Things grew from there and soon they were visited by a coalition of priests and other representatives from Rome to investigate her. She did her best to humor her husband by cooperating with them, as she didn't want to upset him, but she was adamant that her origins were surely not heavenly. Most were convinced, but she was sure they kept a file on her somewhere because she had previous run-ins with others like this old man over the years. To be fair, she admits to occasionally taking advantage of their view of her—sometimes it was all too convenient to be able to walk into a catholic church anywhere and get fed a good meal and be given a bed to sleep in. Especially in the days after her husband's death when she was pretty much a vagabond for years—drunk most of the time and often needing to hide away in a safe place away from any Immortals looking for a fight. She wishes that she'd never played along, as now it is hard to convince the believers that she ISN'T what they think she is. She had made numerous attempts to make amends and put things right, but obviously her efforts hadn't entirely succeeded. She explains all this to the younger priest and he is sympathetic. He admits that the old man is "a bit off" as well, but couldn't she perhaps just humor him?

Priest1: "He only wishes to speak with you, show you some drawings and..."

Miranda: (dubious) "And what?"

Priest1: (He obviously doesn't want to tell her.) "And, well, he is very sick..."

Miranda: "Bloody hell. (she's heard this before) Last rites. (the priest nods) What is it with you catholics and sickness and death?"

Priest1: "You've been asked before?"

Miranda: "Seems to be a thing. I'll talk with him."

Priest1: "And if he should start to slip away?"

Miranda: "I'll call you over. I just don't...I've done it before, but I can't...I mean I don't want to be responsible...? I'm not qualified—isn't it, you know, a problem if it's not done right? (beat) No. I won't do it. Absolutely not. I'll _talk_ with him."

She walks over to the wheelchair and pushes it a short distance away from the others. Meanwhile, the young priest is talking with Giles and the others. They ask what exactly the old man thinks Miranda is. In response, he pulls out a set of drawings from a leather portfolio--drawings the older priest had done. There are a series of sketches of someone that looks a bit like Miranda—some with her dressed in modern clothes, fighting with a sword; some in older clothes. In one view, you see her from the back and her birthmarks are evident. In the next picture, there are wings where the birthmarks are. Another has her clad in armor, with wings and a sword fighting in a battle along with others who look the same. So obviously, the old priest thinks she's an archangel. The young priest explains that the old man has been blind since birth. There are many more drawings, including one very dark image with what looks to be a vampire face up close. They all exchange looks. Spike is looking very concerned—he walks away and moves closer to where Miranda and the old priest are talking. Miranda is trying to reason with him about how she couldn't possibly be what he thinks she is—she smokes, she drinks, she's rather vulgar and she's KILLED people—(she motions for Spike to come over—he rather reluctantly walks in her direction)—she cavorts with the evil dead (indicating Spike). The old man says he committed a sin as a young man—something for which he is seeking forgiveness. Miranda scoffs at this, thinking that he is asking for _her_ forgiveness—she has surely done worse and _she's_ never gone to confession. He says he knows this and knows about 'the dark one', but that she has the power to do more than forgive. It's not too late. There are things to be done. She'll know when the time comes. He simply wanted to remind her one last time. Blah blah blah. She looks at Spike and rolls her eyes. Spike just looks at her with a dubious frown. The priest is looking paler and weaker by the moment. He motions for her to move closer—she reluctantly does so. He whispers a few more things in her ear. Her demeanor softens a little. She says to him softly:

Miranda: "I'm sorry. I know you want to believe this, but it isn't true."

She gets up to call the young priest over and to ask that someone call 911. The old man grabs her arm with all the strength he has. Although he can't see, he looks directly at her.

Old Man: "Please."

The priest comes over and pleads with her again. She reluctantly agrees. Fine—it's all crap anyway, so what does it matter? She starts saying the words (in latin). As soon as she does this, Spike takes off. When she's finished, she gets up and says to the young priest "do it again." The ambulance comes and just as the young priest is about to get in, Miranda asks him how they found her. He admits that they were told by the priest at the church where she went to Easter mass. They new it was her because of the pendant—they have scouts looking for her in likely places at Christmas and Easter. She is obviously stunned by this. She turns around and sees everyone staring at her—it's very awkward and no one knows what to say. She chastises them for behaving any differently towards her, because they should know that it's not true. She tells them they're all too quick to believe stuff like this—sometimes people just make up things to explain what they don't understand. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of other Immortals and they all run around killing each other—not exactly angelic behavior! She dismisses the drawings. She is obviously upset and she leaves. She tries to find Spike, but he's nowhere. Many hours later, Spike is walking the streets and he hears the sound of breaking glass—something familiar about that...hm. He rounds the corner into an alley and sees a pile of broken whiskey bottles—he sees Miranda on the roof of the building (it's a fairly short one—it's actually the one they were on before when they were throwing off the appliances), dropping the bottles one by one. He picks up a piece of one that still has a label—it's the same whiskey that she brought on their first date. He also spies her necklace on the ground. He asks what she's doing—chastises her for wasting good alcohol. She's obviously very angry—she explains that she feels that her husband sold her out. He had given her the setting for the necklace and then making her promise to go to church twice a year—That was just a way to enable the church to spy on her. He wasn't looking out for her 'soul' at all. So she's trashing all the whiskey bottles and she stomped on the necklace and won't wear it again. The anger is obviously covering pain. He joins her on the roof. Talks her down a bit—getting her to admit that she herself said her husband was a bit bonkers towards the end, so it doesn't mean that he WASN'T looking out for her when he made her promise—he was just confused about things—no sense in being angry at him now for it. He succeeds in talking her down with his usual to-the-point observations. Then she goes to hug him and he backs away. He's mad that she didn't tell him about all this—she responds by saying that it was too ridiculous to mention. He was freaked out by the drawings and by her interaction with the old man. They argue about it for a while. Finally, Miranda says something like "Fine. Let's just suspend disbelief for a moment and consider the possibility that they're right. So what if way back in the sands of time, I was some sort of angel—my origin heavenly instead of demonic (whatever the hell that means)—what does it matter now? It's not like I'm about to sprout wings and fly up to heaven on a moments notice. And they sure as hell wouldn't want me if I decided to give it a go. Afraid your demon friends are going to take the piss out of you for dating an ex-angel? You are _not_ going to break up with me over this. (Thinks of something) Ok, ok, got it. Lucifer. He was an bloody angel, right? Don't get any more evil than ol' Lucy, now do you?" Spike: "Good point". Blah blah blah. After a bit more arguing, they work it out.

AN: I guess that wasn't a particularly short summary. The extended version would be much funnier at least and with much better dialog. Moving on. The next bit has absolutely nothing to do with this...


	13. Chapter 13 begin Part 4

Part IV

Scene 1

Sunnydale hospital. Locker room for doctors. The lights are off. We see Miranda quietly steal into the room. She's looking for an open locker—or one with a lock she can easily break into, to take an ID badge and coat. She goes to the back of the room first, so that if someone comes in, she'll be able to cover. She backs into the last row and is startled when she turns to see someone standing there. It's Glory, recently changed from Ben. Miranda hasn't seen her before. They stare at each other for a minute in silence—sizing each other up.

Miranda: "You're not a doctor."

Glory: "Just changing into something a little more fabulous. Was it the hair that gave it away?"

Miranda: "Shoes. Manolo Blahnicks?"

Glory: "Can't have too many, can you?"

Miranda: "Never. But how are they for fighting?"

They are slowly circling each other

Glory: "I've never had a problem, but then again, my fights usually only last a few seconds."

Miranda: "I tend to prefer a thicker heal—less feminine, but gives you that bit of extra attitude. Makes all the difference."

Glory: (beat) "You don't belong here either—what did _you_ do?"

Miranda: "Pardon?"

Glory: "To end up in this un-hell hole?"

Miranda: (Not really knowing what she's talking about, but playing along) "This and that."

Glory: "Sucks doesn't it? Could it _be_ more boring?"

Miranda: "Oh, I don't know—I rather like it."

Glory: "Well, things are gonna change real soon around here. I'm getting out and what's left is going to be in shreds. (beat) I get giddy just thinking about it."

Miranda: "I've become rather attached to this place—maybe I wouldn't be so keen on what's left."

Glory: "Yeah, I mean, the shopping thing is worth something and a girl could get off on the 'big fish—small pond angle, but me; I'm in line to the be the biggest, meanest, best looking fish in deepest, darkest badass dimension I can find. (considering for a moment) I could make it worth your while—you know—to stay out of my way. You like this place? Maybe I could set you up."

Miranda: "I'll keep it under advisement."

Glory: "Listen bitch, just because..." (Someone comes into the room and flips the light on.)

Miranda quickly ducks out the back exit. She decides to bail on the blood theft for the moment and heads straight to the magic shop to tell Buffy and Giles about her run-in with whom she assumes must be Glory. As she walks to the magic shop, she starts to have an increasing spring in her step—from the look on her face, you can see that her mind is racing. She arrives and even though the sign on the door says 'closed' she knocks. After a few minutes, Xander comes to the door. Anya is doing some inventory and he is there keeping her company.

Miranda: (She's actually bouncing in place) "Is, uh, Giles or Buffy here?"

Xander: (sarcasm) "Hi Miranda, how are you?"

Miranda: "Sorry. Hello Xander, Anya. Lovely weather, isn't it? (pause) Have you seen Giles or Buffy, by chance? Not that I'm not thrilled to have this opportunity to chat you two up a bit."

Anya: "Giles in downstairs helping with the inventory. Don't know where Buffy is."

Xander: "She's patrolling."

Anya: (mumbles) "Figures you'd know where she is."

Xander: "What was that?"

Anya: (enunciating) "It FIGURES you'd know where Buffy is."

Miranda: (in a rush) "Nice chatting with you lot...I'll just be heading downstairs."

She trots off to the basement to find Giles.

Miranda: (slightly manic—in an exited kind of way) "Giles. I have something to tell you. The most amazing thing just happened. Oh, but we should wait for Buffy. Or not. Do you expect her soon? Yes, I think you should both be here. So much to talk about. So much to plan."

Giles: "Slow down, slow down. Are you feeling alright?"

Miranda: "Fantastic. Really. Sorry."

Giles: "You look a little flushed."

Miranda: "Why don't I go next door for a bit and when Buffy gets back from patrolling, you give me a ring. I've got some things to do. (almost to herself) Yes. Things."

Giles: (perplexed) "No immediate danger, then, I suspect."

Miranda: "What? No. I'm off. You have my number at the shop?"

Giles: "Yes, alright. Are you sure you don't want to just tell me now?"

Miranda: "Tempting. But no. Don't forget to ring me." (she bounds up the stairs)

About an hour later, Buffy arrives—they call Miranda and she comes back over. When she arrives, she's wearing a white t-shirt and she is covered in dust and dirt.

Buffy: (looking at her t-shirt) "Cleaning?"

Miranda: "Inventory. I have an awful lot of very old and dusty things."

Buffy: "So what's the big news? Giles said you were bouncing around like eight grader before an 'N sync concert."

Giles: "I said no such thing. (shrugging) I said a footballer before the World Cup."

Buffy: "Same thing. I took it upon myself to translate the English-speak. What's up?"

Miranda: "I bumped into Glory tonight. Well, I assume it was Glory. Lots of hairspray, diva-attitude."

Buffy: "That's her. Where?"

Miranda: "At the hospital."

Giles: "Why were you at the hospital—are you alright?"

Miranda: (deliberately not answering) "Huh, I wonder why she was at the hospital—definitely something to look into."

Buffy: "So what happened? You don't look bruised or broken, so I'm guessing you didn't stop to chat."

Miranda: "That's the thing. We did chat. We had a little dance."

Xander: "You did a little dance? (suddenly imagining it—turned on a little) What kind of a dance exactly?"

Miranda: (eye roll) "Not a _real _dance. You know, like before a fight. The part where you get a feel for each other—estimate what you're up against. (flash to Xander, obviously trying hard to not be turned on) It was as if she knew me—or rather thought she knew what I was."

Buffy: "_What_ you were?"

Miranda: "She could tell I wasn't human. And the kicker is, I could tell she wasn't either—I got a distinct Immortal-like vibe from her—not exactly like what I get with others like me, but similar."

Giles: "Interesting. What did she say exactly?"

Miranda: "Mostly the kind of stuff you already know about—that she's planning on leaving and wreaking havoc in the process."

Giles: "Anything else?"

Miranda: "She kind of made me an offer."

Xander: (hard swallow) "What kind of an offer?"

Miranda: "We didn't actually get to the details, but she certainly seemed interested in getting me on her side for whatever that's worth."

Buffy: "Which means she must think you could interfere with her plans. (to Giles) Can we use this?"

Giles: "I don't quite see how right now, but perhaps it would be a good idea for Miranda to keep the lines of communication open so we can find out more. If you're willing, that is."

Miranda: (manic look) "I think I can fight her. I think I should fight her."

Giles: "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Miranda: "I really don't want to talk to her. I want to fight."

Buffy: "Listen, Miranda, we appreciate your enthusiasm—yay, team! But you've seen what she's done to me and no offense, but I don't think you've got much on me in the fighting department." (She's legitimately being generous here.)

Miranda: "It's not the same. Fighting between Immortals is an entirely different business. I think I can fight her."

Giles: "As a last resort, fine. But for now, let's try to learn more."

Miranda: "But. But...I have a _very_ strong desire to kick her ass. I don't want to learn. That's boring. Boring, boring, boring. I want to fight."

Giles: "Miranda, listen to yourself. Something's come over you."

Buffy: "Yeah, I'm all for the fist action and not so much with the learning, but even I think you need to chill."

Miranda: (Frowning. Then thinking) "Right. Ok. You're right. Sorry. There's this thing that happens sometimes—when an Immortal meets another Immortal and they're both up for a fight—it's like a wave of aggression sweeps over you. Makes you jazzed—primed."

Xander: "Like waving a red cape in front of a bull (look from Buffy). What?"

Miranda: "Guess I've got the bug. Must be pheremonal or something. (She takes a deep breath.) Yes, I will definitely do my best to..._chill_. (pause) Up for a bit of training, Buffy? Just to take the edge off?"

Buffy: "Sorry. It's bedtime for Buffy. I'm exhausted." (Miranda frowns deeply.)

Giles: "Keep us informed if Glory contacts you. And try not to attempt anything rash."

Miranda nods. She heads off home, stopping to pick up a bag of weapons that she'd dug out of the back room of her shop. I imagine her getting home, briefly telling Spike what happened (explaining the bag-o-weapons she's brought) and then suggesting that Spike spar with her for a bit. They've never trained together, but M is so jazzed from her meeting with Glory that she can't sit still. He almost reluctantly agrees—they've never had that kind of relationship so it seems a bit strange. Still, I see them going at it most of the night (fighting that is), but, of course, getting turned on in the process and having rampant sex afterwards. (Author's note: I wrote this before buffyporn, so I'm not copying! Really!)

A few of weeks go by. No sign of Glory. Miranda is still in an almost constant state of readiness—she's been training hard with Buffy and by herself. Still, Glory is conspicuously absent.

Scene 2

Doctor's office. Miranda is sitting on an exam table in one of those cotton robes. The doctor comes in and they exchange pleasantries.

Dr: "So how long have you been experiencing these symptoms—vomitting, light-headedness, headaches, etc.?"

Miranda: "About a week and a half. I wouldn't be concerned except that I almost never get sick. Never have much. To have something this persistent for me is very unusual."

Dr: "From the physical examination, everything appears to be fine. We'll run the blood samples while you get dressed. You can wait in my office."

About an hour later, in the Doctor's office. Miranda is sitting in a chair across the desk from the doctor. She is looking agitated—we come in the middle of their conversation.

Miranda: "But that's impossible. There must be some sort of mix-up."

Dr: "I can assure you that the blood we tested was yours. I had them repeat the test after what you'd told me about your history. Both times it came back positive."

Miranda: (getting incredulous) "Well, then, your test is wrong. I don't mean to imply that the mistake is in any way your fault or the fault of your practice. Really, I am making no accusations. I simply cannot believe the result for the reasons I've told you. Do it again."

Dr: (losing patience) "I'm not going to waste my staff's time by repeating the test. I'm sorry if this comes as a shock. (Softening a bit) We have counselors that you can talk to if you need help deciding what to do."

Miranda: (Barely hearing what the doctor says—she's considering something. Her countenance is distracted but now calm) "Thank you, that won't be necessary. Good day, doctor." (She gets up to go.)

Dr: "Stop by the nurse on the way out—she'll be happy to give you the name of a few good doctors in the area."

Miranda smiles in acknowledgement, but quickly leaves the building.

The magic shop, after hours, a week later. Giles is sitting at one of the tables, reading something and drinking a cup of tea. There is a knock at the door. He doesn't appear to be surprised and simply walks to the door and opens it. It's Miranda.

Miranda: "Thanks so much for agreeing to meet me. I hope I haven't taken you away from anything terribly important."

Giles: "Not at all. Although I must admit, your urgency on the phone certainly made me a bit anxious."

Miranda: "Sorry about that—I've been rather moody lately, with a penchant for melodrama. I can assure you it's nothing for you to be concerned about—it's...a _personal_ issue."

Giles: (Even more puzzled) "A cup of tea, then, perhaps? Or is this something that would be better served by a whiskey?"

Miranda: "Tea would be lovely."

He has a kettle on the counter already—he gets another tea bag, pours her a cup and sits back down.

Giles: "Still no word from Glory, then?"

Miranda: "No, nothing. Seems my enthusiasm for taking her on was a bit premature, as she's apparently lost interest."

Giles: "Perhaps it's for the best anyway. We haven't learned much at all since your last encounter with her."

Miranda: (She nods in agreement. There's a pause as she sips her tea. After a moment, she looks at him seriously and says) "I need your help with something, Rupert. Something's happened and I don't know how to explain it. I know you're busy researching ways to combat Glory, but you're the only one I could think of who might be able to help me."

Giles: (very concerned) "Yes of course. I'll do my best to help. What is it?"

Miranda: "Before I say, I hate to ask this, but I feel this particular situation requires the utmost discretion, and so I ask that you don't repeat any of this to Buffy and the rest. At least for now."

Giles: "Assuming what you tell me doesn't pose a threat to anyone, you have my word."

Miranda: (Another pause) "Apparently, I'm pregnant." (It's obvious she hasn't said this out loud before—she appears a bit shocked by the sound of it.)

Giles: (Look of utter surprise—this is absolutely not the kind of thing he was expecting) "Oh. I thought..."

Miranda: "You're absolutely right. It's impossible. Immortals can't have children. (She reaches into her bag and pulls out a sheet of paper and pushes it toward Giles). I've been to three different doctors over the past two weeks. All the tests say the same thing. The ultrasound was done this morning. I heard the heartbeat." (It's obvious she is fighting the emotions that are now welling up).

Giles: (He examines the ultrasound picture) "I'm not an expert in these matters, but from the looks of this, you're not very far along."

Miranda: "The doctor thought maybe 8 weeks. It's hard for them to estimate, since I don't have regular cycles or anything to go on."

Giles: "Has anything like this every happened before to others of your kind?"

Miranda: "Not that I know of. But I've never looked very hard into Immortal matters—I've always felt a bit on the outside. I know the few Immortal friends I have talk as if it's never happened. That's one thing perhaps you could help me with. There must be something in your reference books about us—we're not demons, but we're different enough that surely there are legends or accounts or something."

Giles: "Why don't you go to the source—you've mentioned other Immortals that you're friendly with and I believe Buffy said something once about your having Watchers of a sort. Why not go to them for help?"

Miranda: "I've considered it, of course. Something like this could cause quite a commotion—bring a lot of attention. Until I'm sure it is relevant to the Immortal community, I'd rather keep it from them. Besides, there is no true central body of knowledge as far as I'm aware—they only care about who kills who."

Giles: "I'm happy to look, but you'll have to be a bit more forthright about what you know of your kind—anything you can tell me would be useful"

Miranda: "Of course. (Hesitating a moment) And I'm right in assuming that this sort of thing doesn't happen to vampires either."

Giles: (understanding) "Not that I'm aware of, but of course we'll need to investigate that as well. You haven't told Spike?" (Though unintentional, there is still a hint of disgust in his voice when he says 'Spike'.)

Miranda: "I haven't told anyone. Not until I know for sure."

Giles: "That's probably for the best."

Miranda: "I think it must be mystical. Something to do with this place—the hellmouth—or witchcraft—a spell? (pause) It can't be real, can it? (Snapping into logical mode to answer herself) No, of course it's not real."

Giles: "We'll get to the bottom of it. (He reaches over and touches her hand) It would be wise, though, not to get your hopes up—whatever they may be."

She smiles and nods. She proceeds to tell him all she can think of about her kind to help with the research. After a while, she gets up to leave.

Miranda: "Thanks again. Let me know if you find anything or if you need any more information. I have another doctor's appointment next week."

Giles: "Get some rest. We'll figure this out. (Thinking of something as she walks out the door) Oh, wait. There is one more thing. Um, let's see, how can I put this? Just so that we cover all the bases (aside to himself: "God, did I just say that? I've been in this country far too long") can I assume that Spike is the...uh...well, that Spike is...(having trouble conceiving of the word, let alone saying it out loud) um, the only one involved other than yourself?"

Miranda: "I think that can be our working assumption." (Giles looks a bit puzzled by her response. She starts to leave, but then when she is in the doorway, she stops. She doesn't want to hold anything back, but she also hates the sound of what she needs to say) "There was one other, but it shouldn't be relevant for your research."

Giles: (Slight look of disappointment—ah, she's seen that look before) "On the contrary, I think it could be quite relevant."

Miranda: "Please, just trust me on this, Giles. If I think you need to know more, I'll tell you more. Let's just start from here, alright?"

He can tell that it's a bit of a sore point, so contrary to his instincts, he lets it go for now. She leaves.

End scene.

Author's note: Ok, so I'm heading into familiar territory here, I know. Stereotypical fanfic-land. Trust me that it's going in a slightly more interesting direction than you might think. In all honestly, that's my defence for everything with this story. Yes, it's Mary-Sue-ish in a lot of respects, but it's an interesting story all in all and the directions it goes in are quite a bit darker than most (stay tuned!). Anyway...


	14. Chapter 14

Scene 3

Miranda's shop. A couple of days later. Early afternoon. Miranda has just opened the shop and is on her way in with a cup of coffee and some sort of Danish in a bag. After a few minutes, Giles pops in from next door. They are alone in the shop.

Giles: "Just thought I'd pop in to see how you were feeling."

Miranda: "Things are pretty good. Still a bit hormonal, but I guess that's to be expected. And a touch of morning sickness."

Giles: "A bit early for morning sickness, isn't it?"

Miranda: "I have a suspicion that things may be moving along rather quickly (She pulls her blousy shirt up to reveal a small, but noticeable start of a belly)—who knows what's normal for someone like me, right? How goes the researching?"

Giles: "Nothing concrete, I'm afraid. I did find a reference to a text that may be of use. I don't currently have it in my collection, but I talked to someone in LA who I think will be able to locate a copy."

Miranda: Hopeful, but suspicious "Used book dealer?"

Giles: "Not quite. An ex-Watcher, actually—you met him when you were there before, he..." (She doesn't let him finish.)

Miranda: (horrified) "Not Wesley."

Giles: "Yes. Thankfully, he's quite sure he knows where to get a copy."

Miranda: "You didn't tell him _why_ you were interested in that particular book, by chance?"

Giles: "No, well, of course I didn't use your name, but I wanted to get his input on other potential leads so I described the particulars of the situation."

Miranda: (relief) "Oh, thank God."

Giles: (apologetically) "At the time, I hadn't realized the two of you had met—I'm afraid he was able to guess who I was talking about."

Miranda is obviously freaking out at the news. She's inhaling deeply and bends over, putting her hands on her thighs. It's not that she _wants_ to show so much emotion, but she can't help it.

Giles: "Are you feeling sick? Can I get you something?"

Miranda: (more upset than angry) "It's not bloody morning sickness. Dammit. How _could_ you Giles? I thought I was quite clear on the matter."

Giles: "I don't see why you're so upset—it's not as if he keeps in touch with anyone up here. I didn't see the harm and we had quite a useful conversation."

Miranda: (She's very flushed and sort of talking to herself under her breath) "fuck. _Fuck_. Ok. Maybe he won't say anything. Maybe he'll just sit in his little office buried under a pile of books and no one will ask what he's doing and he'll just merrily research away. I mean, why would he tell anyone, right?"

Giles: "Well..."

Miranda: (eye's widening) "Well what?"

Giles: "Well, he mentioned that to get the book, he'd have to visit a rather unpleasant sort of dealer—Not something our Wesley is likely to do alone."

Miranda: (More emotional reactions and cursing to self) "When is sundown these days?"

Giles: "About 6pm, about. Why?"

Miranda: (to herself) "Ok. Ok. I have until 9 (?) or thereabouts to talk to Spike. Right. I can do that."

Giles: "I still don't see..."

Miranda: "Yes, well, remember the 'not relevant' third party we discussed a couple of days ago in this little development we have?"

Giles: (He's suddenly putting it all together) You don't want Angel to know you're pregnant. It's not relevant because they're both vampires. Oh, good lord. Good lord. (Now it's Giles who is looking rather upset) Does Buffy know? Does Spike know? (Miranda gives him a look; a 'hell no' kind of look) Good lord."

Miranda: "THAT'S what I'm saying. (Noticing that Giles has gone a bit pale) Are you alright? I'm sorry—it's not your fault. Of course it's all my doing and I'll deal with it. I just wish it didn't have to be today of all days."

Giles: (Not actually listening—it's obvious to us that they are upset for very different reasons) "Good lord. This could be bad. This could be very very bad. (to himself) Funny, Wesley didn't mention anything."

Miranda: "Just don't say anything to anyone. I'll take care of it." (She's practically pushing him out the door.)

Giles: "But..."

Miranda: "I will deal with it in my own way. Promise you won't say _anything_. I'll see you later."

Giles: "But...(reluctant)...alright. (beat) Be smart about this."

(Author's note: At this point, I think Giles would call Wesley and just ask about Angel's behavior without actually saying why he's asking. Wes would tell him that Angel has been acting fairly normal, but things have been rather stressful (this is the time when the stuff with Wolfram and Hart and Darla is just starting). Giles's soul-less Angel fears are alleviated, hence he keeps his promise not to tell anyone what he knows.)

A few hours later (7pm). Miranda's house (outside). We see Angel lurking outside the front door—he's thinking about/rehearsing what he should say. He finally gives up and just steps up to the door and rings the bell. The door opens. It's Spike. Both he and Angel look a bit surprised.

Angel: "Uh, Spike."

Spike: "P…Angel. To what do we owe the pleasure—(looking around, mocking) is there _evil_ afoot?" (He wants to be more snarky, but he obviously restrains himself. He's in a good mood.)

Angel: (Stalling while he thinks of an excuse for why he's there) "What's with the powder?" (Spike is wearing a black t-shirt and black pants, both of which appear to be covered in a hefty splattering of white powder.)

Spike: "Flour. (thinking of something) I'll invite you in if you have_ any idea_ how to make a cake."

Angel: "A cake?"

Spike: "It's Miranda's birthday. I'm having a bit of a knees-up for her tonight. Thought I'd make a cake, but I can't seem to remember how it goes...made a bit of a mess."

Angel: "Sorry. No idea. Besides, _you_ can't invite me in."

Spike: "Oh right." (The way he says it, we get the impression that he could if he wanted, but isn't going to correct Angel.)

Angel: "Speaking of Miranda, is she home?"

Spike: "Nah. Still at the shop. Why? She expecting you?"

Angel: "No. Uh, I just need to talk to her about a thing. An antique, actually. It's kind of a visual thing. So I brought it here to, uh, _show_ her." (smiles, proud of himself for this brilliant ruse. ahem.)

Spike: "You can probably catch her if you head there now—you have the address?"

Angel: (a bit thrown by Spike's helpfulness) "I can find it." (He turns to go, but Spike stops him.)

Spike: (uncomfortable) "Listen. Uh. She said you took good care of her. Did what I asked. So. (Spike's way of kinda-sorta saying 'thanks') (pause) You could probably stop by—during the party—for a minute, if you wanted."

Angel just kind of makes a 'maybe' face and then takes off. He's not quite how to react to non-sarcastic!Spike.

Scene 4

Meanwhile...At Miranda's shop. Anya is watching the front. Miranda is working out in the basement—she still has an over-abundance of energy. There are weapons of all types strewn across the mats and hung on the walls. She is in the middle of the floor and is practicing with two long swords. She moves them in what looks like a highly choreographed pattern—starting slowly and working up to faster and faster speeds. Just as she is at the highest speed, requiring the most concentration to maintain, Anya comes strolling into the room, leading Angel, talking a mile a minute about the sales they've had today. Miranda immediately loses her concentration—she loses her grip on the swords and they go flying across the room. In a rather impressive save, Miranda takes a dive to prevent the one that is heading straight down into the floor from hitting the ground (which might have ruined the blade). She's lying on the floor, sweaty and out of breath.

Miranda: "Anya, I do believe I specifically requested no interruptions. (shaking her head) I can see the entry now in the Watcher's Immortal Chronicle 'Distracted Immortal beheads self in tragic training accident'."

Anya: "So in that scenario, would I inherit the shop?"

Miranda: (laughs at this) "Go keep an eye on the register, would you Anya?" (Anya heads upstairs)

Angel: "That couldn't actually happen, could it?"

Miranda: "Absolutely. And leave it to me to be the first. "

Angel: (looking around) "What's with the arsenal?"

Miranda: "Oh, just the usual, I gather, for Sunnydale—an apparently insurmountable Big Bad has all of us in a tizzy."

Angel: "Sounds about right." (He helps her up. She mops her face with the towel and catches her breath.)

Miranda: "How about a proper greeting, then? (She kisses him on the cheek in traditional 'greeting' style) Lovely to see you, Angel. You're early—didn't expect you for at least another couple of hours."

Angel: "But you knew I'd come."

Miranda: "Who knew that Watchers were such Chatty Kathy's?"

Angel: "Were you going to tell me?"

Miranda: "Let's not start here. Can we step back a moment? Come with me upstairs—I'll give you the tour."

Angel agrees and they head up to the main part of the shop. She has Anya give him a tour, while she changes her clothes. When she's done, she sends Anya home and turns over the 'closed' sign in the doorway. Anya says that she and Xander will be coming to the party and they'll be bringing a present. She leaves.

Miranda: "I'm sorry I never called. I meant to. Spike and I patched things up and then things just got kind of crazy. I tried writing you a letter (she walks over to a drawer behind the counter and pulls out a few different sets of paper)—I'm better with written words than I am on the phone. Still, they never quite came out right, so I never sent any of them."

Angel: (a little surprised) "What did you want to say?"

Miranda: (She looks at one of the versions of the letter in her hand and then puts it down and looks up) "I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us because of what happened. I like you, Angel. I think we could be friends—and before you go thinking that I'm blowing you off in a terribly generic way, know that there are not many people in this world that I would say that about. There are things we have in common—things I don't think most people would understand. And we've got time. (Looking back at the letter on the table) Of course, being a girl, it appears to have taken me five pages to say just that in this version of the letter." (frowning at it)

Angel: (thinking about it) "I think the awkwardness lasted maybe 30 seconds and I'm over it. What about you?"

Miranda: "I'm good."

Angel: "And to be fair, I didn't call you either."

Miranda: (Knowing it's not exactly the same thing, but playing along) "That's absolutely right."

Angel: "No hard feelings?"

Miranda: (warm smile) "None."

Angel: (changing the subject) "Were you going to tell me? I mean, the timing seems about right."

Miranda: (heavy sigh) "And here we are again. Yes. Yes, of course I would have told you. But it's not real. I wanted to wait until I knew what it was before I told you anything. I haven't even told Spike, for godsake. He thinks I've had the flu."

Angel: "I'm guessing Spike doesn't know what happened in LA."

Miranda: "He knows I was with someone, but he doesn't know it was you. I ask that we keep it that way for now—until we know more."

Angel: "So you think the pregnancy is an apparition?"

Miranda: "I don't know. Probably. (pause) Honestly, I'm afraid to let myself believe it. (Leaning in close) This is something I've wanted more than anything for as long as I can remember. Believing even for a second that it could be real, that it might actually happen is so overwhelming—so thrilling—that it's dangerous. I have to contain it."

She fishes for the ultrasound picture and shows him.

Miranda: "But to see it. To feel it. (Her eyes are now wide with excitement) It transcends anything I could have imagined—beyond words. Does every woman feel this way?"

But just then, the door opens and in walks Buffy.

Buffy: (before she notices Angel) "Feel this way about what?"

Miranda: "Feel this way about...Birthdays. Another year older—why is_ that_ cause for celebration?"

Buffy: (seeing Angel—completely thrown) "Angel. What...what are you doing here?"

Angel: "Uh. I had to show Miranda something. Something, you know, that she had to see with her _eyes_—so I brought it here."

Miranda: (going with it) "Yes, they came across an artifact that they thought might be connected to...uh...Immortals like myself. Of course, it could be dangerous, so they couldn't send it in the mail and uh, Wesley needed to know about it right away."

Angel: "or else it might fall into the wrong hands and be used for...evil (?)" (He's SUCH a bad liar)

Buffy: (Seeing the ultrasound picture and not getting what it is) "So you took a picture of it and brought the picture? Someone needs to learn how to use the internet."

Angel: "No, well, I do have the actual artifact with me, but it's locked in the trunk of my car for safety."

Miranda: "And based on this picture, I think I may have some idea what it is, but I need to check something that I have in storage, which I can't get to until tomorrow." (Angel gives Miranda a puzzled look)

Buffy: "So you're staying overnight? Why didn't you call me?"

Angel: "Uh, it was all kind of spur of the moment."

Miranda: "He was just about to give you a call, actually. Right this very second. Good thing you stopped by."

Buffy: (She's so floored by seeing Angel that she doesn't think to question the story) "So are you coming to Miranda's party? The gangs all going to be there."

Miranda: "Of course. You must come. We can talk more about the artifact later."

He agrees to come to the party. Miranda says she has some shopping to do, but they can ride over to her house together if they don't mind waiting. They head off. They arrive at the house a bit later, arms full of groceries (Miranda is planning to make scrumptious hors d'oeuvres.). Buffy and Angel will help unload, but then plan to go and spend a bit of time alone together and then pick up Dawn, etc., before the party starts. They walk into the kitchen—Miranda sees the mess and is initially annoyed.

She says to Spike "I give you _one_ job—one task for tonight and you make a complete mess. I expected you to buy a cake, love, not make one—there are _bakers_ in this town, for goodness sake. (Looking around) Blimey!" (Angel is taking some pleasure out of M's chastising of Spike.)

Miranda: (softening) "Then again, it is outrageously adorable that you thought you could make me a cake and even had a go at it. (She saunters over to him) I'm starting to think there might not be anything sexier than a man covered in flour."

They start smooching. Angel frowns and looks disgusted and he and Buffy quickly leave. On the way out, Buffy says "Believe it or not, you kinda get used to it after a while."

tbc...


	15. Chapter 15

Scene 5

A couple of hours later, Miranda's house. People are starting to arrive—everyone shows up at once except for Giles. (Everyone Anya, Xander, Willow, Tara, Buffy Dawn and Angel) Most are standing in the area just inside the door. Miranda is greeting everyone. After a moment, Spike comes up from downstairs—he changed into something less covered in flour. Miranda is wearing a peasant top with a seam under the chest area—the blousy part extending down, conveniently covering her new paunch, which seems to have grown a bit even since this morning. Spike walks up behind her and just instinctively moves his hand around her back and cradles her left breast. Miranda starts to pull his hand away.

Miranda: "Spike!"

Spike: "What?"

Miranda: "You can't fondle my breasts when we have guests over."

Spike: (mock annoyed) "Who made that rule?"

Anya: (to Spike) "I didn't know either. Apparently it applies to ass groping as well."

Spike: "Why did we invite people over again? (Seeing the wrapped packages) Oh right. Presents."

Miranda: "You really didn't need to bring presents! ooh, but don't they look lovely. Let's put them in the living room for later. I've got a bit more cooking to do."

Flashes from the party as time goes on. Miranda keeps bringing out more food from the kitchen. One of the counters in the kitchen doesn't have cabinets above it and it looks into the living room—she does most of the prep work there so she can chat with everyone while she's working. Spike is in the kitchen with her, helping with this and that, but mostly avoiding being with everyone else. Miranda is chopping something with a big knife and when the doorbell rings—she inexplicably jumps at the sound and cuts her finger rather deeply.

Miranda: "Ouch. Dammit! I'm so jumpy lately."

She shows the cut to Spike and then puts the bleeding finger in his mouth—he makes a 'yummie' sound as he sucks off the blood. Xander sees this and is very disgusted and makes a comment to Willow (Xander: "Did you see that? I'm all for swapping of bodily fluids, but _that_ is just disturbing."). A second passes and Spike frowns/looks confused and pulls the finger out to look at it—it's already healed. Before he or Miranda have time to say anything, Giles comes through the door. He apologizes for being late. He's worried that there might actually be something bad in the mix tonight—some sort of special alignment of the stars or some such thing. Hopefully, it's nothing, but they should keep their eyes open for anything unusual. He then gets a drink and tries to act surprised at seeing Angel. It's obvious he is rather uncomfortable being 'in the know' about the pregnancy. When Miranda is free, he asks if she has told Spike yet—she hasn't—there just hasn't been the time (it's obvious there's more to it than that, but he doesn't feel it's his place to press her on the matter). Time goes on and they're all enjoying the food. Miranda brings out her last delicacy and then sits down in one of the comfy chairs in the living room. People are tasting various items on the table.

Tara: "This food is amazing. Are these artichokes?"

Willow: "Did you try the puffy things? _Yummie_."

Xander: "What are these sausage-y things here?"

Miranda: "Black pudding, actually. Something for the English folk."

Giles: "Hope you don't mind, but I already nipped a slice from the kitchen counter."

Miranda: (concerned) "The ones on the _blue_ plate?"

Giles: "I'm afraid I didn't notice."

Miranda: (uncomfortable face) "Those ones were actually, uh, made specifically for Spike—you'll like these better." (Indicating the ones on the table on a yellow plate.)

Giles: (suddenly looking a bit pale) "Oh, I see."

Xander: "What gives?"

Willow: "Black equals blood."

Giles: "Pigs blood, traditionally. But I suppose..."

Miranda: "Best not to think about it too much."

Giles: "Right O"

Willow: "So where did you learn to cook like this?"

Miranda: "Now _that_ is a rather interesting story..."

Dawn: "Oooh, I love Miranda's stories. There's always like horses and carriages and fancy dresses and other old stuff."

Miranda: (smiles at this) "Would you like the long or the short version?"

Tara: "It's your birthday—you decide."

Miranda: (devilish grin) "Hm. I'm quite in the mood for some storytelling. Alright, then. Let's have it all, shall we? (She sits up in her chair and stops for a moment as she imagines the scene and decides where exactly to start). Just over a hundred years ago, long before _most_ of you were born (eye flick to Spike, although same applies to Angel), I was traveling west through Europe. My traveling companion and myself had just escaped from a rather dreadful (pause, how say it) _confinement_—the details of which I'd rather not discuss, as they were quite unpleasant. Suffice it to say that we had been taken some 10 months before and even though we were now free, there was an unspoken acknowledgement between us that the experience had left us somewhat..._damaged_. This feeling we shared meant that we were not in a terrible hurry to return to our previous lives—we weren't ready. So we took our time, slowly making our way westward. She was Italian and from a rather small town. I had been living in Paris. Truthfully, one of the reasons why we had so many 'unspoken' understandings was because we didn't actually speak the same language at all. My Italian was very limited and her English even worse. It didn't matter much. In some ways, it was pleasant to be free of the demands of making conversation."

Xander: "I'm right with you there. Talking—totally overrated."

Buffy: "And this relates to cooking...?"

Miranda: "I'm getting there, hang on. (She takes a sip of wine from the glass that Spike just brought over—he's now sitting on the arm of the chair she is sitting in) One lovely spring afternoon, we had been given a ride between towns by a farmer who was hauling hay. We stopped for lunch at midday. The sun was warm and the wildflowers were blooming—we sat on a small hillside overlooking a tiny cottage while we ate our bread and cheese. God, it was beautiful—like a painting (she closes her eyes, reliving it). The farmer had mentioned that he knew the owner of the farm we were on and that the tenant of the cottage had recently passed away—some old spinster. He said the family was looking for a new tenant and he'd be happy to find out the details during lunch if we were interested. We politely declined, saying we were on our way somewhere and were not intending to stop for more than a day or two. He had left us on the hillside to have lunch at the main house. Now I should say that over the course of our travels, we had been made many such offers, and the reason for this was not simply that there were an abundance of empty cottages or that we simply looked like reliable tenants. No, the reason we were treated with such hospitality and warmth had much more to do with my traveling companion, Isabella. You see, Isabella was beautiful. And before you all jump to the conclusion that I am being humble or intentionally self-deprecating, let me clarify. Isabella was perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen—I was a troll next to her. (Everyone laughs and there are a few protestations). No, really, I kid you not—a _troll_. Perhaps I am being a tiny bit subjective, because she was such a lovely person as well, but...(convincing herself) no…I truly believe that she was objectively the most stunning creature I have come across in my now 140 years. If she had been aristocracy, she's the kind of woman men fight wars over—I had never understood that concept before I met her."

Xander: "Is it me, or did this story just get much more interesting?" (glare from Anya)

Dawn: "What did she look like?"

Miranda: (thinking about it) "I don't know that I can do her justice in a verbal description—there was something almost luminescent about her."

Xander: "Come on. You can't just leave us hanging like that. Give it a go. Use actresses."

Miranda: "Uh. Hm. Coloration, she was a bit like Isabella Rossellini—not entirely olive skinned, as you might expect from a pure Italian. She had long, black, wavy hair. She was beautifully curvy—take Jennifer Lopez's lower body, adding a few inches in height, attach Haley Berry's torso and Angelina Jolie's breasts. That's about the best I can do using names you'd recognize. The point is, she was a goddess and everyone saw it. (Thinking of where she is and adding) Well, not literally a Goddess, of course. Now where was I?"

Xander: (a bit too quickly) "You and the hot chicka were having lunch on a hillside. Now, was there a blanket involved?"

Buffy: "Xander!"

Xander: "What? I'm just trying to get a mental picture."

Miranda: "I do believe there was a blanket of some sort—the ground was rather damp."

Tara: "So was she sitting or laying back on the blanket?" (Surprised look from Buffy; conspiratory look from Xander) "I think it's important to get the mood right."

Willow: "Mood. Absolutely."

Miranda: "Hm. Let's see. We were both kneeling. She was leaning over a bit, resting on her arm. We had been sitting in silence for a while after we'd finished our lunch, just enjoying the sun and the view. Thinking back on it, I do remember vaguely noticing the slightest change in her demeanor. The next moment she said something in Italian "_(to be filled in once I find someone who speaks Italian)_". I wasn't sure I had heard her correctly—I thought she said something about staying there—in the cottage. I was confused by this, because we were, at that point, only a fortnight's travel away at most from her village. We'd been feeling better and she had even indicated that she would be happy to be home. She saw the confusion on my face and repeated what she'd said. This time, she looked me straight in the eye—her voice contained a nervous tenderness that I'd never heard before from her. After she spoke, she appeared to hold her breath in anticipation of my response. I still didn't understand her meaning—my Italian too weak to interpret subtleties. She took in a deep breath and then tried in English. She said "We stay here? In house? (pause as she reached for my hand) _Together_." As she said this, she gently took my hand and put in on her neck, just below her cheek. I think she wanted me to feel her heart—it was beating very fast. She repeated a third time what she'd said in Italian, this time in a soft, seductive voice as she moved her face downwards slightly to nuzzle my hand. The next moment seemed to go on for hours—like I was frozen in time. I remember looking at her lips as she said the words and suddenly becoming aware of what she was suggesting. (Aside: breaking out of the moment briefly to look around the room at everyone and say) You all probably think I was being terribly dense, but this was a different time and such things were not commonplace. (back to the moment) As her meaning sunk in, my mouth suddenly went dry and I felt a tightness in my chest. I'm sure I stopped breathing. Here was this goddess, this otherwordly creature asking me to stay with her—essentially proposing to me—and the look on her face as she waited for my response was unbelievable. She was nervous. As if I could have said anything other than 'yes'. As if anyone would have had the power to not do anything she asked. I felt dizzy...intoxicated. I tried to say something but I couldn't seem to speak. I remember thinking at that moment that I finally understood what it was like to be a man."

Spike: (mildly offended) "What's that supposed to mean?"

Miranda: "Up to that point, I'd always thought men were rather pathetic in their vulnerability to beauty—getting talked into doing the most ridiculous things only to get taken advantage of and their hearts broken. I'd done it myself—taken advantage. It was too easy. But then there I was, utterly and completely powerless—absolutely no will of my own."

Willow: (suddenly really liking the story) "So what did you do?"

Miranda: "As I said, I couldn't manage to get a word out, so instead of trying to articulate verbally, I simply leaned over and kissed her. Hoping all the time that I would like it, as I'd never kissed a woman before and frankly had never considered it."

Tara: "And, uh, was it...?"

Miranda just smiles and takes another sip of wine. Everyone is conspicuously silent. Giles walks into the room—he'd been rummaging around the 'hidden' room, where the previous owner of the house had kept all her magic THINGS. He notices that no one is speaking.

Giles: "Something going on?"

Buffy: "Oh, Miranda was just telling us how she learned to cook." (As she says this she suddenly makes a face, realizing that so far, they've learned nothing about how she learned to cook.)

Spike: (to Giles). "Join the party, Geeves. Miranda has just managed to turn on everyone in the room except for Buffy, Anya and Dawn and I don't think she's done yet."

Dawn: "I think it's very romantic."

Buffy: "So, uh, cooking?"

Miranda: "Right. So we talked to the farmer and he agreed to rent us the cottage. We didn't have much money, so we helped out in the kitchen for the main house and supplemented our income by selling some baked goods in the town. Isabella was a fantastic cook. I was dreadful in the kitchen at first, but she taught me everything she knew. (laughing) We spent most of our time in the kitchen that year! (remembering fondly) Well, not _all_ of our time. (snapping out of it) So _that_ is how I learned to cook...and incidentally, when I learned to speak Italian."

Willow: "How long were you two together?"

Miranda: "I guess we lived in that cottage about a year."

Tara: (Disappointed and empathetic about their 'breakup') "That's not long—what happened?"

Miranda: "Oh, it was fine. We could have stayed there a bit longer, but events transpired to speed things up. The townsfolk were getting more suspicious of our relationship—we'd gotten rather lax about hiding our affection and in those days, people were not very open minded. And Isabella wanted desperately to have children. That very next summer, the young man she'd been engaged to, before she was taken, somehow managed to find us and still wanted to marry her. We both agreed that it was for the best and he arrived in August to take her back."

Xander: "And when he arrived, did you...?"

Anya: "Xander! Even I know that is a totally inappropriate question." (But then she kind of looks at Miranda, curious about the answer)

Spike: "I think that's enough, love. You can give me the details later."

Dawn: "What did you do after she left?"

Miranda: "I decided to head east. A story for another day, perhaps."

Tara: "Did you ever see her again?"

Miranda: "No. By the time I returned to Europe, I decided to just let it pass. She did promise to name her first daughter after me and so I took much pleasure in envisioning a dark-haired, dark-skinned Miranda running about the Italian countryside."

Angel: "You're daughter's name was Isabella."

Miranda: (nodding) "Hm. Yes. I thought it only fair to have a pasty-skinned, freckled, Isabella in return."

Buffy: "You don't talk about her much—your daughter. What was she like?"

Miranda: (dismissive) "We weren't very close. You think you can love a child that isn't your own just as completely, but sometimes it just doesn't work out that way. (Changing the subject) Is it time for cake?" (W&T had arrived with a cake, after hearing from Buffy about the baking fiasco.)

At this, they bring out the cake. There is much joking about M's age. She says that it's funny that she's actually only the third oldest person at the party (behind Anya and Angel). Miranda cuts a large piece for herself. Spike tries to take it away from her and jokingly makes a comment just to get a rise out of her.

Spike: "Maybe you should take it easy on the cake, love—you're starting to get a bit thick in the middle."

To which, she light-heartedly expresses due outrage. He then playfully pulls up her top to show off her little pudge.

Spike: "I like it—gives me something to grab."

Then come the presents. (Author's note: I'm not in the mood to come up with clever gifts from everyone, so I'll just skip to the important ones.) Willow and Tara say that when they were looking through the old witch's stuff, they found what appears to be one mother of a protection spell for the house. Practically impenetrable, they think. After consulting with Giles and getting some things at the magic shop, they've figured out how to activate it (and turn it on and off as needed). They've also equipped it with an alarm, so that if anyone even tries to break in, they'll be warned. They do the initial activation, which requires some chanting and such. From there, they tell Miranda how to turn it off and on again, which isn't nearly so complicated. Somehow the spell seems to be tied to the house—they originally were hopeful that they could use it elsewhere (for Buffy's house to protect Dawn, etc.), but they have not been able to get it to work anywhere but here at Miranda's house. Now all the presents are open and Miranda is properly thanking everyone and looking things over. Spike had disappeared for a moment, but has now walked back into the room.

Spike: "One more, love."

Miranda: "Is it yours?"

Spike: "Thought it proper to save the best for last." (Eye rolls all around, except for Miranda)

Miranda: "You're awfully cocky. Sure it's all right to open in mixed company? (to Anya who is sitting next to her) Lingerie is a rather fitting first birthday gift, don't you think?"

Spike: (overhearing) "What d'you need lingerie for? Seems a bit of a waste when..." (notices that Dawn is listening and doesn't say anymore. He pulls a small box out of his pocket and tosses it casually on the table. It's thin and about 4X4 inches).

Miranda: (She's obviously quite excited/nervous about what he's gotten her. She actually did not expect to be opening it in public. She eyes the box and then looks up at Spike) "Shall I guess?"

Spike: (He's leaning against the wall next to M, looking very confident and pleased with himself) "Suit yourself."

Dawn: (impatient) "Just open it already!"

Everyone in the room is mildly curious. She picks up the box—it's wrapped in just a small black ribbon tied in a bow. She flicks a look up to Spike. She pulls off the ribbon and then slowly removes the lid of the box. She looks at the contents and expresses a look of genuine surprise with a touch of confusion. She looks up at him, as if for an explanation.

Spike: "It's the same stone." (He's excited to tell her about it—quite proud of himself.)

Miranda: (heartfelt) "Spike, it's beautiful."

She pulls a necklace out of the box. It's a choker with a drop pendant—the pendant is cross, but fatter and of a different style than her old one. In the center is the ruby from her other necklace (which was originally the stone from her engagement ring). The chain is a rather thick lattice (maybe half an inch) with very detailed markings. Spike leans over and takes it from her and starts to put it on her neck.

Spike: "It's platinum, which is much stronger than gold—s'what you had before (gold)—the bloke said it should hold up pretty well in a fight. The clasp has a double safety. Pendent should be different enough. Oh, and if you look close, the chain's got little mini-crosses in—for a touch of added protection."

(Angel thinks that Spike gives him a look at that moment, as if to indicate that she needs protection from him, but then realizes he's just being paranoid. He whispers to Buffy. Angel: "So what happened to her old necklace?" Buffy:"I guess it kept breaking; oh, and there was this other thing about spies and Easter—I'll tell you about it later")

Miranda: (Once Spike has put the necklace on, she stands up to properly show it off. She's tearing up a bit, but trying to hide it. She turns to Spike who gives her a little eyebrow flick.) "You think you're pretty clever, don't you?"

Spike: "Pretty clever."

Miranda: "Let's review, ladies, shall we? It's beautiful, practical, has sentimental value and..." (looks to Anya)

Anya: "Expensive."

Miranda: "How many boyfriend points does that add up to?"

Dawn: "Off the scale."

Miranda: "Quite right."

Xander: "Lucky bastard. He's set for life—well, at least the next 2 years of birthdays, anniversaries and random holidays."

Miranda: (beaming at Spike) "Have I mentioned lately that you may, in fact, be the best boyfriend _ever_?"

The men in the room respond with the male equivalent of the eye-roll; the women are rather transfixed.

Spike: "Now, love, you shouldn't make the others feel too pathetic. (Piercing look at Xander) They do try."

Miranda: "We're going to step into the kitchen for just a minute." (She walks in the direction of the kitchen, with Spike close behind, smirking proudly.)

Once they're gone and it's reasonably certain they're out of ear shot...

Tara: "wow"

Willow: "I'm right there with the 'wow'"

Xander: "Pull yourselves together, women. There's a little too much non-disgust in the air."

Angel: (Has been wanting to say something all night, but hasn't had the chance) "So is it just me, or does it seem really odd that Miranda and Spike are like, a couple? I mean, his last girlfriend was a total psychopath and Miranda appears to be...well, for lack of a better word, kind of _normal_."

Xander: "Actually, his last girlfriend was a mindless bimbo. Still, point taken and agreed with. And you know, I don't think 'odd' is actually a strong enough word to describe the situation."

Angel: "Phew, Ok. I thought I was missing something."

Willow: "No, it's not exactly something we're comfortable with—we've just learned to keep the disgust buried under a nice thin layer of denial mixed with polite non-discussion."

Giles: (genuine concern) "It _is_ a bit worrisome. Miranda is actually quite a powerful woman and we still don't understand entirely what she is and what her motives are."

Buffy: (explaining—they've obviously discussed this) "It's not that we don't trust her. It's just that the more in to Spike she becomes, the more likely it is that they'd stick together no matter what."

Giles: "And if somehow we find ourselves in a conflict with Spike, which is actually quite likely based on his history, she'll fight for him."

Angel: "Huh. I just couldn't figure out what she sees in him, but now that you mention it..."

Just then M&S come back into the room, smiling. Everyone stops talking. After a bit, the party resumes—they put on some music, etc.

Scene 6

Suddenly, the alarm sounds (from the protection spell).

Author's note: Just a quick summary, light on the details.) They look out the windows, trying to see what's going on. It becomes apparent that the house is surrounded by Glory and her minions (who seem to have multiplied). They also see a different kind of demon talking with Glory—one they hadn't encountered before. Luckily, it appears that even Glory is stopped from entering the house by the protection spell (in frustration, she walks up to the door and tries to break through after her minions failed, but is not able to). Glory rants a bit at the door—says it'll make her job easier now that they are all in one place. They bring Angel up to speed on Glory. Glory still doesn't know that Dawn is the key. Time goes by as they try to break into the house and fail. Everyone is freaked out and discussing what they should do. Everyone agrees that they should under no circumstances leave the house until they are sure the coast is clear because there are just too many to fight and they are not prepared. At one point, they realize that Glory has changed her strategy and instead of trying to break in to the house, she is trying to lure them out. The new demon buddy of hers seems to be able to play with their minds through the barrier and so manifestations begin appearing, all with the goal of luring people out (e.g., at one point what looks like Dawn runs out through the front door on her way back from the bathroom—Buffy is about to follow her out, when they realize it was just a manifestation and that Dawn is still in the bathroom. One time, a "pizza delivery guy" comes to the door and the bad guys make it appear that he is about to be killed by one of Glory's minions to lure Buffy into trying to save him and thus opening the door/leaving the house.) Because they can't trust what they see, they agree to remain in the living room—within sight of each other at all times. More time passes. At one point, one of the manifestations is Joyce and this totally freaks out Dawn, who is very upset and scared anyway. Tensions are running high. People are getting a bit loopy. They start talking about making a break for it. Buffy is getting frustrated by Miranda's lack of enthusiasm for the plan.

Buffy: (Seriously pissed and snarky—she's really worried about Dawn and frustrated) "So why, all of sudden, have you become a pacifist? All I heard about for weeks was how you wanted to kick Glory's ass—how you thought you could fight her. (mocking) "I'm a badass Immortal—let me at her." Well, now's your chance. Let's go."

Miranda: "I..."

(Giles intercedes)

Giles: "Don't be so hard on Miranda, Buffy. She's simply come to her senses about the likelihood of her being able to win against Glory."

Buffy: "But isn't it worth a try? At least so we can get Dawn to safety—she doesn't have to win. Heck, she doesn't even have to survive, right? I believe your exact words were "I'm immortal—what's the worse that could happen?""

Miranda: "I wish I could, but I..."

Buffy: "But? Suddenly your afraid of a fight?"

Spike: "Take it easy, Slayer. Miranda's been a bit under-the-weather the past couple weeks, haven't you pet?"

Miranda: (looking around—feeling backed into a corner) "Believe me, Buffy, if things were different, I'd do whatever it took to protect Dawn. It's just that...um...it's not just about me anymore."

Buffy: (annoyed look toward Giles) "Here we go. So what? Now that you're in love, you won't take any risks? I knew this was a bad idea."

Miranda: "What? No, I...um. Well, the thing is, I'm rather..._pregnant_." (This hits the room like a lead balloon. Stunned silence.)

Xander: "But I thought..."

Giles: "Yes, it's impossible. We're looking into it."

Buffy: (to Giles) "You knew?"

Miranda: "I needed some help researching how this could happen."

Willow: "Wow."

Tara: (tentative) "Congratulations?"

Buffy: "How long?"

Miranda: "Maybe 10 weeks—I'm not sure." (She is actually avoiding looking at Spike, as if she fears his reaction.)

Dawn: "Huh. A baby. That's good, right?"

Miranda: "I don't think there will be a baby—I don't know. I keep thinking it has to be imaginary. But still, I can't..." (Her voice trails off.)

Anya: (ignoring the last statement) "So Spike's going to be a dad. That'll be interesting."

Giles breaks out with an unexpected and totally inappropriate laugh (it's the stress).

Giles: "Sorry, sorry. I just (He can't stop himself from laughing) I just had a vision of Spike holding a nappy. (more laughing) Sorry. I know it's not funny." (Trying desperately to suppress the laughter)

Spike: (Has been standing there in stunned confusion, waiting to break into the conversation. To M) "What's this, love?"

Miranda: (She looks at him for the first time.) "Oh, William. I haven't had the flu and it's not the cake that's making me fat. (to everyone) Could you please give us a minute?"

Everyone moves to the other side of the room, giving them a bit of privacy.

Spike: (not exactly angry—still stunned) "So you're pregnant. And you told Giles before you told me."

Miranda: (genuine) "I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you, but it probably isn't anything and I didn't want to freak you out."

Spike: (looking at her stomach) "It's obviously something."

Miranda: (welling tears now) "We can't talk about this now—lets wait until we can be alone."

Spike: "What made you think it would freak me out?"

Miranda: "Come on. From what you've said in the past it's rather clear this isn't something you'd choose. We'll work something out, OK? Please, let's not talk about this now."

He agrees to let it drop and they join the rest of the group. He is obviously distracted during the discussion that follows, re: what to do about Glory et al. They finally decide to simply wait it out until morning—assuming the spell holds until then. (Author's note: somehow, I had it in my head that Glory and her minions could only be a danger at night—now that I think about it, that doesn't actually make much sense. Still, I'm sticking with the plan because I'm too lazy to think up an explanation right now.) They take turns keeping watch out the window—a variety of things happen as the night goes on. During a rather quiet phase…

Buffy: (to Spike—Miranda is keeping watch out the window—Buffy is actually trying to be nice and make conversation.) "You seem to be taking this in stride—the impossible pregnancy and all."

Spike: (shrugs) "Things just happen around Miranda. Unexpected things. (giving an example) I mean, who would have thought a vampire could have a reflection."

He indicates the window, where you can see Buffy's reflection on the couch and Spike's facing her.

Buffy: (glancing and then spinning around to get a better look.) "WHAT? How?"

Spike: (suddenly realizing—crap) "So I guess we haven't mentioned that little tidbit before, have we?"

Buffy: (to everyone, pointing at the glass) "Look—Spike has a reflection." (Everyone looks)

Angel: "You didn't know about that?"

Buffy: "You did?"

Angel: "Well, yeah. I just assumed you'd pick up on it—with all the _time_ you spend together."

Buffy: "What else?"

Spike: (really wishing he hadn't let that slip) "Nothing really—nothing worth mentioning."

Angel: "He can be in the sun without catching on fire."

Spike: "Not full sun—just dusk and dawn."

Willow: "ooh, ooh! I _knew_ I saw him touch that cross without any smoke or sizzling! Aha!"

Spike: "Ok, so there are a few things. It's no big deal."

Buffy: "This is bad. (to Giles) This could be really bad."

Angel: "Well, _duh_."

Miranda: "Calm down. Don't get your knickers in a twist about it. I don't see why it's that significant."

Xander: "The chip still works, right?" (affirmative angry nod from Spike; X shrugs it off) So no biggie. (casually) Unless it stops working and then Spike becomes some sort of invulnerable ubervamp."

Tara: "That would be bad."

Miranda: "Come on, now—I think you're all jumping to some very nasty conclusions here. A half-reflection does not an ubervamp make."

Spike: (mostly to Miranda) "You know it could all be related. The reflection, the sunlight, my knocking you up."

Shot to Miranda—this hadn't occurred to her before. Huh. She's turning this over in her mind.

Buffy: "But I still don't get the 'how' part of the explanation."

Angel: "Figure it's got to be the blood. Though, I don't see how _that_ could relate at all to the pregnancy."

Buffy: "What do you mean 'the blood'?"

Miranda is desperately giving Angel the 'don't tell her' look. He doesn't get it.

Giles: "Yes, what do you mean?"

Angel: "Come ON, do you people not have ANY powers of perception?"

Miranda: (interjecting—trying to avoid the 'biting' discussion) "The blood in the freezer—for Spike. It's my blood."

Buffy: (disgusted) "So what, you like, bleed yourself for him?"

Miranda: "The short answer is...yes."

Miranda is now giving Angel a pleading look—there's already too much on the table to bring up the biting.

Xander: "Anyone else feeling a bit ill right about now?"

Giles: "Well, that surely adds a twist to things, doesn't it? I suppose it could all be related, although I can't quite fathom the mechanism."

Willow: "Thinking about the whole pregnancy thing—the witch that lived here before—she was totally into fertility."

Tara: "She made a lot of money helping people get pregnant with spells and charms—it was her thing."

Willow: "Maybe there's something sorta leftover in the house that might have helped things along—you know, like a fertility aura or something."

Spike: (small smirk) "And we sure have pushed the limits, haven't we, love. I mean, even if there was just a one in a hundred chance..."

Miranda: "Can we stop talking about this now? We've got other things to worry about."

Angel: "I'm quite happy to not talk about it."

Conveniently, something starts to happen outside, distracting everyone. Ahem. Stuff happens...blah blah blah...they deal with it blah blah blah. Things quiet down. Anya drifts off to sleep and within minutes, she is sleepwalking and heading towards the door. So now sleeping is off-limits as well. Only a few more hours until daybreak. They start to discuss what the plan is for the morning and the next couple of days. Giles seems to think that if they can make it through tomorrow night, things should lighten up a bit. He thinks that the new powers that Glory has access to (the manifestations, mind-reading, etc.) will disappear due to what he had been reading before he got there—the special alignment will breakdown. Angel offers to bring the team from LA up to help out. Because of the protection spell, they agree that at least Dawn should come back to Miranda's before nightfall tomorrow—perhaps all of them. So they are in the midst of this conversation, when out of the blue, Spike says:

Spike: "I think we should get married."

Miranda: "What?"

Spike: "That's what people _do_, isn't it? In this situation."

Miranda: "We're not exactly _people_, though, are we Spike?"

Spike: "Now you sound like one of them." (indicating the scoobies)

Miranda: "It's absurd and you know it. We'll talk about it later."

Spike: (realization crossing his face—he looks a bit upset, in a slightly angry voice) "I get it. Yeah, right. Later."

Everyone goes back to planning. More time passes. Miranda is sitting on Spike's lap on the big comfy chair, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm is draped across her stomach, with his hand resting gently on her little paunch. Anya, Xander, Dawn and Giles are playing cards. Buffy and Tara are perusing the CD collection—Willow has a pair of binoculars and is scanning the front yard from the couch (there is a big picture window that the couch backs up against). Angel is pacing.

Miranda: "I'm feeling a bit sick, love. I'll just nip into the kitchen and get a glass of water." (She slides off the chair.)

Buffy: "She shouldn't go alone."

Spike starts to get up—he's half asleep, so not moving very fast.

Angel: "I'll go. I could use a snack or something."

Spike sinks back into the chair. They get to the kitchen and Miranda pours herself a glass of water. She walks to the fridge and opens it.

Miranda: "I do actually have a bit of pig's blood leftover from the black pudding—d'you want it?"

Angel: "That'll be fine." (She moves to put the container in the microwave. He stops her) I'll drink it cold."

Miranda: "Well, let me at least put in a glass." (He nods and she does and he takes the glass from her. She starts to walk back to the livingroom.)

Angel: "Hang on a second. We should talk. (She reluctantly stops—too exhausted to protest.) "I know things are crazy tonight and it's not the time to decide anything. But I just want you to know that you'd be welcome in L.A.—whatever happens, (pause) whoever the father is."

Miranda: "Thanks. (Pause as she takes this in and thinks about it) What exactly are you saying, Angel?"

Angel: "Uh, I don't know exactly. This is all kind of off the top of my head, but uh, I think we could work something out. Something that would be best for all of us."

Miranda: (skeptical) "All of us?"

Angel: "You're not actually considering raising a child with him? You need to consider what's best for the baby—what's best for you _and_ the baby."

Miranda: (politely) "Rest assured, Angel, that I will consider what's best."

She walks to the livingroom. Angel looks pleased—Miranda just looks exhausted. She gets halfway into the hall and then has to turn back and throw up in the sink. Afterwards she walks back into the living room and stands next to the chair that Spike's in, holding her glass of water.

Willow: "Looks like we've got more company. Dang, I thought we were done with manifestations—it's been so quiet!"

Buffy: "What do we got there, Will?"

Willow: "Ooh. Handsome man in a tux. Whose is that?"

Buffy: "Give me those binocs—I'll be the judge of handsome."

Willow: "Do you think she's resorting to raw sex appeal now? Seems kind of lame."

Buffy: "Yep, he's a hottie." (She hands Willow the binoculars) "And with that, I transfer the watch to the immune party."

Giles: "And what is this 'hottie' doing?"

Willow: "Uh, he looks kind of confused. Oh, now he's talking to Glory—can't tell what she's saying, but she looks like she's being sorta polite. He's walking tentatively towards the house now."

Anya: "What's he look like?"

Willow: "Tall, black hair, pale skin—ooh, light eyes—can't tell if they're blue or green."

No one is looking at Miranda to notice her knees suddenly go—she catches herself on the chair. She says, calmly:

Miranda: "Does the front pocket of his jacket have a handkerchief with a clover stitched in?"

Willow: "uh…(looking for it) yep, I see clover—four leaves—the good luck kind. How'd you know?"

Miranda subtly moves as if something has just hit her hard in the stomach. She lets the glass slip from her hands—there is a rug below, so it doesn't break.

Miranda: (She says weakly) "Green. His eyes are green. Cal. (fighting back tears) That _bitch_."

Spike: "Who's Cal?"

Angel: (to Spike, scathing) "Her husband, you idiot—how can you not know that?" (Spike shoots Angel a nasty glare.)

Miranda: (overcome) "Is his face blurry?"

Willow: (confused) "What?"

Miranda: (She's shaking a bit now) "It pulls these manifestations from our minds, right? Uses our memory to form the image. Lately, I've had trouble remembering. You think you'll always be able to see them in your mind—how could you let yourself forget? But lately, I can't. I threw away all the pictures. I try to see him, but it's blurry—his face is blurry." (She's losing it.)

Willow: "He looks clear to me." (Hands the binocs to Tara, who confirms that his features are clear.)

Miranda suddenly gets a somewhat manic look on her face. She starts to go for the window.

Buffy: (concerned) "You know he's not real."

Miranda: "I just want to see him one more time—that's all."

Giles: (Reacting to the crazed look in Miranda's eyes) "That may not be such a good idea."

Just then, they hear Cal's voice.

Cal: (strong Irish accent) "Miranda? Miranda, love, are you in there? Come to the window, so you can see that it's me, Cal. (pause) Miranda?"

Hearing his voice is too much—she lunges to the window. Buffy and Angel exchange a look and Angel grabs Miranda's arm, preventing her from reaching the window. With her other arm, she manages to reach forward and grab her sword, which was just leaning up against the wall. She whirls around and holds the sword threateningly toward Angel—the surprise of it causes him to loosen his grip on her arm and she frees herself. With wild eyes and gritted teeth, she repeats;

Miranda: "I just want to _see_ him."

It looks like Buffy or Angel might try to rush her again to prevent her from getting to the window. Before they do, suddenly Spike steps in and shoves Angel backwards (not too hard).

Spike: "Back off, soul-boy. The lady said, she just wants to have a look. Let's everyone give her some space. (to Miranda) Trade, love?"

They exchange weapons—he takes her sword and gives her something small and less cumbersome. He is essentially guarding her as she moves to the window. Everyone exchanges looks, like "oh, fuck, this is what we've been fearing". Miranda says one more time in a small voice...

Miranda: "just want to see him"

She walks to where the curtains are open and stands there. After a minute, Cal notices her in the window (he appears to have not known which window she might appear in) and walks towards it. As he approaches, you can see the emotion on his face.

Cal: "Aw, Miranda, my angel. Look at you. You cut your hair. You're even more beautiful than I remembered. I don't really know what's happening, love. Suddenly here I am—young and fit—dressed as I was on our wedding day. I don't even know how long it's been. She says we can be together again—she says you've got a baby inside you. (He's moving still closer to the window.) But you have to come out here and then it'll be done. Think of it, love. Another 40 years together. I don't know how she's managed it—must be a miracle."

He's now just inches from the window. They are at about the same height. Miranda doesn't say anything—she moves closer to the glass. Cal looks a bit sad suddenly—as if he's about to confess something.

Cal: "I tried to be happy. I did. But I could only think of you. Miracle or not, I don't care. (He puts his hand on the glass.) I'd sell my soul just to touch you again."

At these words, Miranda lets a sob escape her lips and the tears start to flow. She puts her hand on the glass where his hand is and just stares at him. After a moment, she whispers, still looking directly at Cal.

Miranda: "Tara. In just a moment, when I say, I want you to close the curtains as fast as you can. Xander, when the curtains close, I want you to turn up the music on the stereo as loud as it will go."

She takes one more long, sorrowful gaze at her husband and then waves to Tara with her free hand. She pulls away from the window a split second before the curtains arrive and the music goes up. It's obvious that Cal is starting to say something, but the music kicks in just in time. Miranda turns and quickly rushes towards Spike—she buries her face in his chest as hard as she can, as the sobs start to come. He puts his arms around her and slowly moves them back towards the big chair—her body has gone completely limp. He kisses the top of her head gently and just holds her while she cries.

tbc...


	16. Chapter 16

Scene 7

An hour or so passes. Miranda's face is still held fast against Spike's chest. He holds her up and to him—She has long since stopped crying and has not uttered a sound since. When one of his arms starts to shake from the strain, he shifts her lifeless weight to the other arm and gives it a break. Noticing his fatigue, Buffy is the first to speak to either of them.

Buffy: "Spike, maybe you should sit down for a minute."

Spike: (in an irritated, but not too loud voice) "Sod off. You lot didn't trust her and that means we don't trust you, so leave us the fuck alone."

Buffy: (surprised by his outburst) "Yeah, well, she's not exactly been acting herself lately and in her current state, she might not have been so much in control. And don't forget, she was the first to draw a weapon."

Spike: "No, Angel was the first—vampire's body's his weapon."

Buffy: (quietly) "I couldn't take the risk with Dawn here."

Spike: (hostile/bitter) "Guess it's good to know where we stand, then innit?"

Buffy: (responding in kind) "Guess so."

Miranda turns her head to the side so that her cheek is resting on Spike's shoulder.

Miranda: (in a very tired voice) "It's OK. We shouldn't trust anything right now."

Spike: (tenderly) "shhh, love."

Miranda: "Let's sit down a bit."

M and S move over to the big chair and sit down. Everyone is looking at Miranda, but no one is saying anything—they don't know what to say. An awkward silence ensues.

Angel: "Can I get you something? A glass of water?"

Miranda: "I'd quite like a cigarette and a glass of whiskey.

Spike hops up immediately and gets a pack out of his jacket. Xander is quick with the pouring of the whiskey and puts the glass in front of her. They are all staring awkwardly. Spike lights the cigarette and hands it to her—she picks up the glass.

Angel: "Are you sure you should be doing that? I mean, in your condition? (looking around for support) Isn't it bad?"

Miranda just gives him a disbelieving, irritated look—she wants to tell him to fuck off, but holds back and takes a drag. Spike just frowns and shakes his head.

Giles: "I think, under the circumstances, exceptions can be made."

Xander: (cheerfully) "My mom smoked a pack a day when she was pregnant with me—and look how I turned out."

Spike: "oh, God. Maybe you should reconsider, love."

More tense silence.

Anya: (desperate to break it, as the tension is unbearable) "So what was your wedding like?"

Willow: (mortified) "What? Anya!"

Anya: (not perceiving the disbelieving shocked looks from everyone) "His tux was stunning and he mentioned your wedding, so I was just curious to know what it was like."

Absolute horror on the faces of everyone—terrified of what Miranda's reaction will be. After a beat, she cracks up with laughter and shakes her head.

Miranda: "ah, Anya—we can always count on you to break the mood. Uh, a wedding like any other I suppose. Big church, acres of white silk, champagne, flowers."

Anya: "And cake? Was there a cake?"

Folks are still shooting Anya "stop it" looks, but she is oblivious.

Miranda: "There was—three tiers, it had."

Anya: "Did you feel like a princess? They always say that."

Miranda: "I suppose I did. It was, quite possibly, the happiest day of my life—right up to the moment when the priest said 'until death do you part'." (She lets out a small resigned laugh.)

Willow: "I'm sensing the need for a big change of subject right about now. Xander? Thoughts?"

Xander: "Uh, monopoly anyone?"

Dawn: "oooh, I get to be the top hat."

Buffy: "no WAY. You always get the top hat. (beat) Fine. I call the car."

Buffy, Xander and everyone but Giles, Angel, Spike and Miranda go across the room to play monopoly. Some time passes. Giles is flipping through a book. Miranda is sitting in the chair, Spike's on the floor leaning against the chair and Angel is sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. They are all looking tired and bored. Giles suddenly gets that 'discovery' expression on his face (still reading from the book he's holding).

Giles: "huh" (He's still concentrating hard on the book.)

Miranda: (Not actually curious, but wanting anything to keep awake) "what huh?"

Giles: (scanning the book) "Oh, it's just that like Willow said, the previous owner of the house was involved in fertility spells and such and so I was just looking through a few of her books—there's a fairly straightforward spell here that may allow us to do a sort of paternity test. S'pose that's what people did before DNA-testing. Can't imagine it would've held up in court, however."

Miranda's eyes widen. There is absolutely NOTHING she wants less than Spike finding out about she and Angel—the thought of it makes her feel ill. Could this night BE any longer? Before she can say anything...

Spike: (calm, serious, but slightly defensive) "And what would we need that for?"

Giles: (at this, Giles looks up from the book and noticing his company (Angel, Spike and Miranda) and the look on Miranda's face, he suddenly realizes that he shouldn't have said anything—he's tired too and his judgment isn't what it should be. He tries to cover) "Oh, well, uh,...it is possible that the pregnancy could have a mystical origin, considering that neither vampires nor Immortals have been known to conceive—this would be a way of testing that possibility. So if we did the spell and there wasn't a match, we'd know the pregnancy didn't come about in the usual fashion."

Miranda: (forgetting for a moment about S/A and thinking only about how to know definitively if the pregnancy is 'real' or not) "You really think it would work? On me—us?"

Giles: "It's worth a try. Of course, we don't have the necessary supplies here tonight—but I should be able to get everything at the magic shop. And then a sample—blood or hair from the potential father. Considering you're vampires, I think hair would be more likely to work properly."

Oh, god, he said 'vampires'—Miranda holds her breath hoping Spike didn't notice. As Giles finishes talking, Angel involuntarily runs his fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

Angel: "How long does it take?"

Spike: "What's it to you?"

Up to this point, Spike is mainly concerned 1) that he might not be the father 2) about the humiliation of anyone finding out that he's not the father or even the possibility that he's not the father.

Angel: (very guilty look) "Just making conversation."

Giles: (not paying attention to this exchange) "I'd like to show this to Willow—in case there's something I'm missing." (He walks over to the other side of the room.)

Spike is visibly thinking about something—that shallow frown he gets when he's trying to figure something out. Miranda is trying (maybe a bit too hard) to appear casual—she exchanges a quick look with Angel (Spike doesn't see this). He gets that it would be _very_ bad for Spike to know what happened in LA—there could be violence/shouting—BAD BAD BAD!)

Miranda: (chirpily) "You know what? I'm feeling a bit peckish."

Angel: "I could stretch my legs—is there anything in the kitchen?" (He's about to get up.)

Spike: (Suddenly figuring something out, he gets a knowing smile/smirk on his face) "It was him. You're one-off in LA. (to Angel) _That's _why you're bloody here."

Miranda and Angel are just frozen—totally thrown by the direct accusation. It's obvious from their reaction that it's true.

Spike: (leaning back further against the chair) "Oh thank God."

He starts laughing—the almost manic laugh of intense relief.

Angel: (to Miranda) "Not exactly the reaction I was expecting."

Spike: (still laughing—genuinely) "Didn't think you had it in you, mate. A bit above and beyond what I asked, but..." (more laughing)

Miranda: (very confused) "So, you're not upset, then?"

Spike: (still looking very happy. Pointing) "He's no more likely to be the father than me—_less_ in fact. (explaining) I thought you'd shagged that Immortal bloke—seemed logical he'd be the likely candidate what with him being the same as you and all. I'd been thinking about it all night."

Miranda: (tenderly) "oh, Spike." (Touched that he'd spent so much energy worrying about whether or not he was the father.)

Angel: "Where do you get _less_ likely?"

Obviously annoyed by Spike's reaction—not that he wanted to fight, but still...

Spike: (frowning now—he'd been so relieved to find out that it wasn't the Immortal that he hadn't thought about his animosity towards Angel) "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because she was so satisfied by your little one-nighter that she came back here and we fucked like bunnies for three days straight. How many times you think we did it, love? I lost count once we hit double digits."

Angel: "Yeah, well_ I've_ got a soul, so..."

Spike: "Doesn't that line get old after a while? Unless you keep your precious soul tucked away in your pecker for safe-keeping, I can't imagine what difference it makes. It's all down to probability and I've got that sorted."

Angel: "Say what you want, Spike, but I think the timing is telling—assuming that it wasn't just her neck you were interested in before your ex dragged her off to LA."

Spike: (He's only half listening to Angel and is still laughing it off for the most part. Oh, but then he gets a devilish grin on his face. To Miranda (sort of)) "'Course this means all bets are off—you owe me for this, love. (He lifts his head up and says loudly) Buffy, oh, Buffy—could you pop over for a minute?"

Angel: (threateningly mixed with a bit of pleading) "Spike, let's not..."

Buffy leaves the monopoly game and walks over.

Buffy: (serious) "What's up?"

Spike: (standing up; to Buffy) "Yeah, the thing is, slayer, we have to have sex."

Buffy: (eye roll; uncomfortable glance to Angel) "That is _so_ not funny."

Spike: "Not trying to be funny, pet. Seems your hero here isn't quite so heroic after all—taking advantage of damsels in distress and the like."

Angel wants to say something but doesn't—poor guy actually is worried that he might have taken advantage.

Buffy: (starting to get very uncomfortable) "What are you talking about?"

Spike: "Need to spell it out for you? Alright, then. LA—a dark and dreary hotel room—Miranda not feeling her best, turns to mister broody for a bit o' comfort—gets a shag instead. The way I figure it, eye-for-an-eye's the best kind of payback."

Buffy: (Getting it—look of shock and anger as she turns to Angel) "You slept with her?"

Spike: "Not so much sleeping, as..."

Buffy: "Shut up, Spike. (to Angel) Is it true?"

Spike: (smirking; to Miranda, conspiratorially) "This is where it gets good."

Angel: "I, uh...well. (gulp) Yeah."

Buffy: (to Miranda) "You little slut."

Miranda: (to Spike) "That was unexpected."

Buffy: (back to Angel) "You slept with her. (figuring more out) That's why you showed up here. (beat) How could you? I mean..."

Angel: (horrified at the prospect of hurting Buffy's feelings) "It was a mistake—I wasn't thinking."

Miranda: "A mistake? (indignant) I don't know as I'd go as far as to say that."

Angel: (feeling trapped; turning to M/S) "He bites her; all the time."

Miranda: (to Spike) "Ah, diversion. Not a bad strategy in this situation, I think."

Spike: (to M) "Think I would have waited a bit before resorting to that."

Buffy: (v. angry now) "I'll deal with you two later. Angel can we talk a minute? Somewhere that's not here?"

Spike: (to M) "Stay tuned for the battle of the repressed."

He gets up and they move to the corner of the room—we don't hear what they're saying; Spike & Miranda are spectating and trying to guess what's going on between Buffy & Angel. Miranda is aware that this whole last little interaction (calling Buffy over) is a diversionary tactic of Spike's, but she just rolls with it—things could be worse.

Willow: "Hey. Guys. The sun's coming up!"

Xander: "Halleluja! Can we go home now?"

Anya: "But I was winning. Why does the game always have to end when I have almost all the money?"

Spike: "I quite fancy some fresh air. (to M) What do you think, love?"

Miranda: (slightly surprised. Although Spike can go out close to sunrise and sunset without getting burned now, he rarely suggests it—he's a bit skittish still) "Sounds lovely."

M & S walk out the front door. They plop down in the grass under a tree. Spike is squinting and looking very pale. M is pointing out the different flowers in the grass—S is mostly goofing off (throwing grass at her, etc.). They are just being cute. Buffy and Angel watch through the window.

Buffy: "It's not fair." (that Spike can go outside in the sun)

Angel: "Yeah." (that Spike and Miranda get to be happy together)

Buffy: "What're you going to do now that it's daylight?"

Angel: "Don't know. (pause) I'd rather not stay here."

Buffy: "I'm sure we could get you to the car—you can crash at my place if you want."

Angel: "Promise not to stake me in my sleep?"

Buffy: "I think I can hold back. Everything won't seem so terrible once we've all had some sleep. Maybe. Hopefully."

M & S come through the door—Spike is sucking his finger (it's obviously painful).

Spike: "I can't believe that thing bit me."

Miranda: "It didn't bite you, it stung you. I'll get some vinegar."

Spike: "Bloody bee."

Miranda: "You did try to touch it, love. Just because it's furry doesn't mean you can pet it."

Spike: (defensive) "I didn't know—s'been 100 years or more since I've seen a bumblebee."

As they come in, everyone else is leaving—too tired to talk, they file out in silence after agreeing to check in a bit later to come up with a plan for tonight.

Scene 8.

Later that day in Miranda's house. The bedroom. Miranda and Spike had simply gone to bed/sleep once everyone had left without speaking, even though things had been left unresolved. Miranda awakes to find Spike leaning up on one elbow, staring at her, looking pensive.

Spike: (in a somewhat hoarse and quiet voice) "So why don't you want to get married, then? Had it figured that it's because it might not be mine—but it isn't _his_." (disgust in his voice when he says 'his')

Miranda: (dismissive tone) "Do you really want to be a father? Do you have any idea what that means? Everything would have to change."

Spike: "What 'everything'? Put a crib in the corner there, buy a few nappies..."

Miranda: "You know it's more than that. Besides, correct me if I'm wrong, but it was only a few years ago that the phrase 'having a baby' had an entirely different meaning for you."

Spike: "So that's what this is about? You think I'd hurt it? God, Miranda—not _your_ baby (as he says this he reaches down and softly strokes her belly)—I would never..."

Miranda: "I know. I know. But what about everything else? Everyone else? Someday the chip will stop working and are you really ready to promise that you'd never bite anyone? I don't want to have to explain to junior why his little friends keep disappearing. Or his teachers or the local police. I couldn't live like that."

This stings. She says it deliberately because it's what he expects to hear.

Spike: "What a load of bollocks. (beat) That's not it."

He sounds almost surprised when he says this, but he's sure he's right. What is it?

Miranda: (Caught off guard. Even she had convinced herself that was it, but upon hearing his reaction, she understands he's right. How does he do that? How can he know her better than she knows herself? She's almost annoyed and keeps with what she was saying) "I just don't think you understand what..."

Spike: "And _he_ does?"

Miranda: "I don't know. (She's tearing up now. softening) You really want it? You'd really want to stay? (Seeing the look in his eyes, she suddenly panics and gets up and walks to the bathroom while saying) Don't answer. Don't. Please don't."

He tries to follow her, but she closes the door in his face and turns the shower on so she can't hear him. He shouts at the door.

Spike: "Why? Why, 'cause it'll be harder to leave me then? (He waits for an answer, but one doesn't come. After a few minutes, he angrily puts on some clothes and shouts back to the door) We're out of cigarettes. I'm going out."

He stomps up the stairs and is gone. She comes out a few minutes later and sits on the bed. She goes upstairs—good, it's still daylight—mid-evening. She lays on the couch to wait for him. She sits up with a start when she hears the door slam shut—did she doze for a minute? She assumes it was Spike and that he has gone downstairs. In a few minutes, she gets up to follow him. She finds him already under the covers and asleep (on his side, facing the wall, away from her side of the bed). She does her best to cuddle up to him, but he doesn't stir. She whispers in his ear.

Miranda: "I love you, William. How could I love anything as much as you? But it isn't real. It can't be real—I want it so much. It can't be. (Then the expression on her face changes—softens into an almost delirious smile. She's drifting off to sleep now) It'd be such a beautiful baby, wouldn't it, love—yours and mine."

She nuzzles the back of his neck and quickly falls asleep. She starts to dream. It's not pleasant or unpleasant. She is walking somewhere in Sunnydale—she knows where she is going, but is moving casually. She arrives at an abandoned factory (yeah, another one!). She suddenly finds herself in a large room—then she is moved quickly to a sort of platform. It's empty at first, but then in an instant, she sees two chairs. First the chairs are empty. Then in one appears Dawn, tied up. In the other is Spike, chained. Glory appears in front of them—a knife in her hand.

Glory: "It's about time. I've been waiting and waiting and waiting and that makes me cranky. Very cranky. Maybe this will speed things up."

She casually walks over to Spike, who is gagged. She grabs hold of his hair, yanks his head back and then slowly (as if in slow motion) slits his neck from ear to ear with the knife—blood starts to pour out. Miranda wakes with a gasp as she bolts up in bed. She turns to where Spike was asleep, knowing he won't be there—he isn't. She runs upstairs, tears streaming down her face. She grabs her sword and her cell phone and runs out the door. She is still in her pajamas. Shots of her running, growing more hysterical with every step (it is now dark). She tries to make a call on the phone, but keeps making mistakes, because she can barely see through her tears. She finally dials Buffy's number—Buffy answers.

Buffy: "Hello"

Miranda: "She's got him. She showed me. She...(she can't get the words out)...don't know if he's alive." (She's practically hyperventilating now.)

Buffy: "Miranda? Slow down."

Miranda: "Dawn, too. Hurry. She's at the old factory behind the (insert place name blah)."

Buffy: "Dawn is upstairs sleeping. It's still light out."

Miranda: "No. It's a trick. Somehow...it's dark—has been. She's got them."

Buffy: "Don't go alone. It's a trap—wait for us to catch up and we'll go together."

Miranda: "Can't wait...he could be...I saw it...I have to go now." (She throws the phone down and starts running faster.)

Buffy: "Miranda, wait!" (It's too late. Buffy runs upstairs and sure enough, Dawn is not there. She gathers the troops and heads out.)

Meanwhile, Miranda arrives at the factory and storms in, ready to fight. She is so upset, that she is shaking and she can barely see through her tears. She is surprised that she has a totally unimpeded path to the platform that she saw in her dream. There she sees Dawn and Spike and Glory as she had dreamed them, only now Spike is lying limp and lifeless in the chair—an unimaginable amount of blood on the floor in front of him. Dawn is crying. At the sight of Spike, Miranda's eyes widen in a mad fury. Glory is standing in front of them, wiping some blood off her shoe.

Glory: "Finally. Who knew a vampire would have so much blood in him? Wish he would stop bleeding and dust already. Got your attention, though, didn't it? I'm a sucker for dramatics. I'm guessing you told your slayer friend that we've got her bratty little sister—or what was it the vampire called her? Little bit? Isn't that adorable."

Miranda rushes towards Glory, but a few of the minions step in front. They don't attack her, but she has to get rid of them to move forward.

Glory: "What, no shoes today?" (Miranda looks down at her feet—she hadn't noticed that she was barefoot until now.) "Disappointing."

Miranda: "Fight me, you bitch. Call off your dogs."

Glory: "We're not here to fight—we're here to talk."

Miranda: "Go to hell."

Glory: "Believe me, I'm trying."

Miranda makes a few more attempts to get to Glory, but to no avail. She is slowly beating back all the minions, who although being in her way, still have not raised any weapons. She finally gets close enough to Glory to take a few swings with her sword—Glory ducks, but does eventually take a punch or two to the face. She doesn't raise a hand to Miranda, who is getting more and more furious and yelling "Fight me, you coward. Why won't you fight?"

Glory: "You think I'm afraid of a little peewee Immortal like you? Whatever. You've _got_ something of mine."

Miranda: (putting it all together.) "None of you will fight me...because...you don't want to hurt the baby."

Glory: "Not nearly so fragile as humans, but my boys don't want to take any chances. You're just a convenient little Immortal carrying case for my future body—on the off chance that things don't go as planned. And the best part is, I won't have to share that one. My little priesties need to do some sort of chanting or something to keep it going and who knew it would be so hard to get to you? So here we are. (Seeing the demoralized look on Miranda's face) What, did you think you could fight me? Hardly. (Turning to a few of her minions who are standing off to the side) Can we get this over with now?"

Miranda takes advantage of Glory's momentary distraction and swiftly swings her sword and slices off Glory's head, which she then kicks across the room. As you might expect, instead of falling, Glory's body just starts walking around dizzily looking for her head while the 'head' is yelling to the priests to bring them together (you get the picture). Just then, Buffy and the others show up and all this together is enough of a distraction to allow them to rush the platform. Miranda goes straight to Spike's chair and breaks the chains with her sword. She then tosses her sword away so that she can drag him and support his head (which is actually barely attached) at the same time. Someone frees Dawn and they all sneak off down a passageway while Buffy and Angel maintain the commotion (keeping Glory from getting her head back, etc.). They get to a place near a back exit and pause for a moment to wait for Buffy and Angel to catch up—this only takes a few seconds. Miranda is taking a moment to undo Spike's gag and carefully wrap it around his neck across the wound. When she's done this, she looks up at the group. Tears are still streaming down her face.

Miranda: "Bandages? Anything?"

Xander: "I've got some duct tape." (He pulls it out of his handyman belt. She takes it.)

Buffy: (to M) "We have to go. They'll be here any minute—you can finish that in the car."

Miranda: "No. Go on ahead. He'll be dust before we get to the car if I don't do something. Don't ask me how I know, I just do."

Buffy shoots a look to Angel who just gives her a shrug—Spike looks bad enough that she could be right—who knows? What with everything else that's changed.

Buffy: (to everyone else) "Take Dawn out. NOW. (Everyone but Buffy and Angel start moving to the door. Now to Miranda) She's right behind us. We need to go. You can't do anything for him here anyway."

Miranda: (She's kneeling beside him, trying to unravel the duct tape) "I won't leave him."

Buffy can tell by the look in her eyes that it's not worth arguing.

Buffy: "I have to go with Dawn. We can't wait." (She starts moving to the door with the others.)

Miranda isn't really listening—she is working hard to wrap the duct tape around Spike's neck over the cloth gag. She is focused only on helping Spike—nothing else even enters her head.

Miranda: (She calls after them) "A knife. Anything sharp?" (No one has anything—the first group out the door had all the weapons. (slightly hysterical now) How can you not have anything? You have bloody duct tape, but nothing with a sharp edge—Oh god. (She feels sick. Then, thinking of something) Angel. Please. Hang on a minute."

Angel looks to Buffy.

Angel: "I'll stay back with them. We'll meet you back at the house."

Buffy: (Buffy nods) "We'll bring the second car around to this exit and leave it for you."

Miranda: (Finishing wrapping the tape around his neck—good ol' duct tape—his head is now somewhat supported. She is ripping off a piece of fabric from her pajamas as she says) "I need your teeth, Angel."

Angel: "What?"

Miranda: "It's the only way. Please."

Angel: (figuring it out) "No. It's (Spike's head) not going to come off now. Let's get out of here."

Miranda: "I'd use my bloody fingernails if they were long enough. Please, Angel. I can do something. I can help him. Please." (She looks up at him—tears flowing from her eyes—absolutely desperate.)

Angel: "What about the baby?"

Miranda: (manic laugh) "Doesn't matter. It's bloody Rosemary's"

Angel: "Who's Rosemary? (getting it. disappointment and empathy) Oh. (pause) What do you want me to do?"

Miranda: "Let me just get in the right position. (She moves behind Spike and pulls him between her legs so that the back of his head is resting against her stomach. She then positions herself so that if she moves her left arm around, the crux of her elbow is even with his mouth. He is completely lifeless and limp. Pointing to the vein in her arm.) Bite there and then give it a good suck to get the blood flowing quickly." (Angel hesitates for a moment) "Please, Angel. We don't have much time." (Angel vamps out and then does as she says. Once he moves his mouth away, she directs the stream of blood to Spike's mouth, which she has propped open. She squeezes her hand on the ball of fabric she tore out of her pants to increase the blood flow. A minute passes. She's still crying—where does all the water come from? She is stroking his hair with her other arm and kissing his head softly. She's completely oblivious to Angel's presence. She whispers to Spike) "It's going to be Ok. Come on now, my love." (Nothing happens. She looks at the wound and notices it's stopped bleeding—ever since she's been pregnant, her rate of healing seems to have increased dramatically. She holds her arm up to Angel) "Do it again." (He wants to argue, but the look on her face is so determined that he simply does as she asks and bites into her arm. She doesn't even flinch. Another 30 seconds or so goes by.)

Angel: "How long are you going to wait?"

Miranda: (voice quavering) "Just a bit more. (Then, finally, she feels Spike's lips lock around the wound and begin sucking gently) There's my love—that's a good boy. (A look of relief crosses her face and she suddenly looks almost serene) Enough for now—one of us has to walk out of here."

With that, she pulls her arm away and then takes the fabric from her hand and wraps it around the wound. Spike still isn't completely conscious, but he's moving.

Angel: "You've got to be weak—I'll carry him. We need to get out of here in a hurry."

She nods. Angel pulls one of Spike's arms around his shoulder and lifts him up—Spike moves his legs, but can barely put any weight on them—his eyes only flutter open and shut. Miranda stands up and they move towards the door. But just then, Glory appears—her head back on.

Glory: "And where exactly do you think you're going? I told you, you've got something of mine. Trust me, if I could, I'd just rip it out now, but they tell me it's too early."

A large number of minions/priests have appeared behind her.

Miranda: (whispers to Angel) "Get behind me—close—and do exactly as I say." (Angel sets Spike down and moves behind Miranda—they are up against a wall) (to Glory) "What do you say we make a deal?"

Glory: "You may not have noticed, but you're pretty much cornered. You can't fight, you can't run, so I don't think you've got anything to bargain with."

Miranda: (looking at her own stomach) "Oh, I think I do. I'm guessing you want it alive?"

Glory: "Pulease. You don't have any weapons—what're you going to do, cry it to death?" (She does a mocking cry.)

Miranda: "I've got a strapping set of teeth behind me that'd do the job. Tell us, Angel, in your heyday, 'bout how long would it take to drain a girl like me, if you were in a hurry?"

Angel: "Oh, 5, maybe 10 seconds tops."

Miranda: "Right. You see, I'd bounce right back from that, but I'm guessing the baby wouldn't. Not that brain damage would make much of a difference."

Glory: (She glances at her monks who confirm that this would be bad for the baby) "I'm listening."

Miranda: "There's a car parked just outside that door. Let them get to it and go—you don't need them for anything anyway. I'll stay behind."

Glory: "I let them go and they go straight back to the slayer and then come back and hassle me AGAIN. I'm getting so tired of that. Besides, I think you're bluffing. (getting an idea) The thing is, if things go the way they should, I'm outta here and you can keep your stupid baby. I know you want it—least that's what superbrain over there tells me." (Indicating the demon that was spotted last night outside of the house.)

Miranda: "Right, because your baby would surely be a delight. Angel?" (He vamps and moves to bite her neck—just as his teeth pierce her skin, Glory intercedes.)

Glory: "Okay, okay. Stop. Whatever."

Miranda stays in front of Angel and Spike—Angel supports S again. They move as a group towards the door—M knows that the minute she moves away from A or S, Glory's men will try to stake them/shoot them with an arrow. They get to the door.

Miranda: (to Angel) "Take him back to the house. There's blood in the freezer."

Angel: "We _are_ making a break for it, right?"

Miranda: "No. Too risky. I'm staying."

Angel: "Are your crazy?"

Miranda: "Well, maybe, but that's not the point. She won't hurt me while the baby's still alive. Come back for me when you've got a plan and some reinforcements. I'll be ready."

That's all the time they have for speaking. Angel w/S make it to the car. Miranda is quickly taken into custody by Glory's men. The door shuts and now we just see A & S at the car. Angel roughly throws Spike into the backseat—now that M is gone, he tosses Spike around like he were a sack of potatoes. He gets in the front seat and starts up the car. He looks in the rearview mirror and sees that Spike's eyes are half open.

Angel: "Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Any clue at all, you selfish bastard?"

He obviously doesn't expect an answer and just looks annoyed and drives on.

tbc...

Author's note: Feeling kind of depressed and worthless today. Anyone who is reading this actually enjoing it?


	17. Chapter 17

AN: This is where things start to get a bit dark...

Scene 9

Writer's note: Here, I'm going to have to be a bit lazy. Please don't be annoyed. The thing is, I never quite worked out in my head how they get Miranda away from Glory. Can I just say that the scoobies came up with an excellent plan and rescued her, full stop. The next scene takes place in the hospital. The baby had been growing very quickly during the short time she was with Glory—the monks/priests/minions were chanting and feeding her things to make the baby grow. But within hours of being away from them, the baby's heart stopped and a 'mini' labor was induced by the doctors at the hospital and so Miranda had to give birth to the stillborn. She is now recovering. The doctors have suggested that she stay the night.

Miranda is sitting up in bed, looking off to the side. She has an IV in her arm. Buffy steps quietly into the room.

Buffy: "Hi. Mind a bit of company? (Miranda doesn't even look over/up) The doctor thinks you should stay until the morning. We thought we'd make a night of it—until they kick us out. Willow brought a movie you can watch on her laptop. (still, no reaction from Miranda) Anya and Xander are at the house with Spike. Bizarrely, Anya's being quite the little nurse. He's not awake most of the time and he still can't talk. But he'll be Ok—not so easy to kill, those vamps; else my job would be a _lot _easier. (pause. Awkward silence. Five minutes or so pass.)

Miranda: (in a completely normal voice) "Could you send Angel in for a minute?"

Buffy: (happy to have some glimmer of animation from Miranda) "Yeah, sure. I'll just...get him."

Buffy walks out of the room. Willow, Tara and Angel are waiting outside.

Willow: "How is she?"

Buffy: "She's still not really talking. It's eerie. Looks a bit pale, but I guess that's normal."

Tara: "She hasn't said a word since we got her away from Glory—do you think she did something to her?"

Buffy: "I got a whole sentence out of her—she asked to see you, Angel. A lot's happened in the past few days. I think she just needs some time."

Angel: (a bit surprised and slightly awkward) "Oh, uh. I guess I'll..."

Buffy: "Just go."

Angel: "Right."

He opens the door and steps in. He stands there in silence for a moment, waiting for her to speak. Miranda has yet to acknowledge his presence. A minute or two passes.

Miranda: "I wanted to say thank you. And..." (her voice trails off and she doesn't finish)

Angel: "No need. You've been through a lot. You should rest."

Miranda: "You've lived a long time as a vampire—seen a lot of things. Evil things. You might know. (she is starting to look a bit agitated; her hands are shaking just a bit) I wanted to ask you...(her breathing is a bit unsteady. She stops herself and takes a breath) She couldn't do it, could she?"

Angel: "Do what?"

Miranda: "Take his soul. Cal's. He wished it, but he didn't actually get to touch me. Not really." (There is a touch of desperation in her voice.)

Angel: "You're still thinking about that? He wasn't real—she was just trying to play you."

Miranda: (she looks directly at Angel for the first time since they've started talking) "His hand was warm—against the glass. I felt it. I could see his breath. (pleading) There are rules—some honor, even in this, isn't there?"

Angel: (honestly) "Sometimes. It depends."

Miranda: "I couldn't live with that. He worked so hard to help me—to save me from myself—he was everything good. If loving me damns him, I..."

Angel: "I doubt she has the power. Try not to think about it now."

Miranda: (She nods, but is obviously still upset) "Can you help me with this?" (She is fiddling with her IV.)

Angel: "What are you doing?"

Miranda: "It's time for me to go now. Hate hospitals."

Angel does as she says and she disconnects the needle in her arm. It becomes obvious that she'd fiddled with her IV before and instead of getting the fluids that the doctor meant to give her, she has reversed things and is filling a bag of blood. In response to Angel's confused expression:

Miranda: "It's for Spike. Snuck another one under the bed." (She reaches under, grabs it and then slips on her clothes. She's a bit wobbly on her feet. She's about to open the door but hesitates for a moment. Without looking at him, she says, warmly:) "You'd be a good father, Angel."

She walks out of the room and makes for the exit. Everyone is shocked that she is up and about. She asks to get ride back to the house and they leave.

She asks to be dropped off, despite offers of help/company. She walks in the door and finds Xander watching tv/sleeping in the livingroom and Anya in the kitchen in an apron with what looks like bloodstains on the front.

Anya: (very chipper) "Oh, you're back. Yay. (looking her over) I thought you'd look _much_ worse."

Miranda: (very tired) "Hello, Anya."

Anya: "I've been taking care of Spike—defrosting the blood, feeding him, cleaning up the mess—he can't really drink very well yet. I was going to give him a bath—he's covered in blood—but Xander thought that was going to far. I mean, I wouldn't want you giving Xander a sponge bath if you were taking care of him and he was covered in blood, now would I? But I did wash his chest off a bit—don't tell Xander." (She gives Miranda an approving eye flick.)

Miranda: "Thank you, Anya. I do appreciate it. You can go now."

Anya: "You'd do the same for me, right? I mean, you'd take care of Xander for me if he was hurt."

Miranda: "Yes, of course."

Anya: "But no sponge baths."

Miranda: "We're clear on that point."

Anya: "Good. Ok, we're off."

Anya goes to collect Xander and they leave. Miranda walks upstairs and turns on the water in the bath and waits for it to fill and then shuts it off. She comes back down to the kitchen and pours the fresh blood into a cup. She goes downstairs to the bedroom where she finds Spike lying on top of the covers on the bed. He looks like death—the duct tape is still around his neck and his clothes are stiff with dried blood. She climbs on to the bed and slides up next to him. She strokes his face with her hand and kisses him on the cheek. He opens his eyes, but can't turn his head to look at her. She lifts her head to look him in the eye.

Miranda: "Everything's going to be okay now, love. I'll take care of you. It'll be all right. I just need to rest a minute."

There are tears in her eyes as she lets her face rest back on the pillow next to his head, her nose practically touching his ear. She continues to lightly stroke his face with her hand as she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

Scene 10

Sometime later, Miranda's house. In the bedroom. Spike is on the bed, now clean with loose fitting pants and no shirt. His eyes are closed and the duct tape is still around his neck. We see Miranda come and go, tending to things—we can see that her face is wet with tears (she occasionally makes an attempt to brush the tears aside). Right in the middle of doing something, she stops dead and stares into space—the tears now flowing more freely. Suddenly, Spike's hand reaches out to touch her arm. Noticing that he is now awake, she quickly brushes the tears away and taking a deep breath, she turns to him and tries to smile.

Miranda: "Ah, you're awake. Let me just, uh, run upstairs and heat up some blood for you." (She starts to go, but he weakly grabs hold of her arm. She turns to look at him—he has a look of extreme concern on his face. Seeing it makes the tears flow again—she turns away slightly and sits on the edge of the bed next to him. He moves his hand up to her face and feels the dampness of her cheek. He gives her a slightly confused look.) "It's the funniest thing—I just can't make them stop. (embarrassed) It's like a bloody faucet or something."

He gives her shoulder a tiny squeeze—Still, his frown shows his concern/confusion. Seeing his expression out of the corner of her eye, she takes a breath.

Miranda: "There's no baby. There was. (pause) Please, just let me get you some blood."

She gets up from the bed and makes her way upstairs. She pulls a bag from the freezer and pauses to take a brief count—there aren't many left. After she heats it, she goes back downstairs. Spike looks sad/disheartened—she tries not to look at him. After propping his head up with some pillows, she feeds him—he's too weak to hold the cup. After a minute, she thinks of something and says..

Miranda: "Are you in pain?" (He responds with a subtle shrug, as if to say it's no big deal.) "No need to be macho, love, I've brought something from the hospital." (At this she walks into the bathroom and comes back with a vial of liquid, a needle and a rubber tourniquet. But when she sits on the bed next to Spike, she frowns.) "Guess you can't really do this the same way with a vampire."

She thinks for a minute. She remembers what he's told her about how he can feel her pleasure when he drinks from her during or right after an (her) orgasm—it's such a wonderfully intense feeling that he rarely bites her at any other time now. So that will work, surely. And who knows...maybe it will stop the tears for a bit. She gets up and fishes for a sharp knife. Afterwards, she positions herself in the same way as at the factory when Angel helped her feed Spike. She uses the tourniquet, finds her vein and injects the fluid—you can see the instant reaction (like someone taking heroin). She loosens the rubber thing on her arm and rather dreamily, slits across the same vein and holds it to Spike's mouth. Her eyes flutter and soon, you can see his reaction as well. Once he's had enough, he puts his hand over the wound to help stop the bleeding—she's too out of it to re-tighten the tourniquet and her head falls back. In a moment, they're both out.

Things go on like this for a while. Miranda is terribly depressed, but throws herself into caring for Spike as best she can. He gets a bit better—the tape comes off and the wound is partially healed over. He can sit up and speak in a whisper. Soon, though, they run out of blood. Miranda is too out-of-it to leave the house—she's continued to take the painkillers to stop the tears. Her depression is hindering her healing process (not to mention that she isn't eating much) and so she can't produce much blood for Spike. (note: the image I have is from Sid and Nancy (1986) when they are in the 'final' hotel room where they lay around in bed, doing heroin). We hear her occasionally talking on the phone—to whom we don't know. They don't answer the door. As time passes (weeks), Giles and the others begin to worry. They even try to break in once to check on them, but Miranda has rigged the protection spell to keep everyone out. At some point, they run out of painkillers and Miranda decides to go out.

At the Magic Shop. Giles is leaning on the counter, reading something. We hear the bell ring on the door. In walks Miranda. She looks awful—pale, thin, sad. But, she's put on some nice clothes and tried to make herself up a bit so as not to look too deathly.

Giles: (upon seeing her, he has a sudden look of relief) "Miranda. We've been so worried."

He walks towards her. They greet with a one-cheek kiss. He takes her hand and leads her to a chair. Without the drugs to calm her, the tears start to flow again. She visibly tries to hold them back.

Miranda: "I...I 'd like to ask for your help."

Giles: "Yes, of course. Anything."

Miranda: "He's not getting any better. It's been a month and he's basically the same. I've tried my best, but I...I don't have anything left." (At this, she pokes her arms through her coat, revealing the scars.)

Giles: (he is initially shocked by the scars) "Oh, I hadn't realized..."

Miranda: "Do you know of anything that could help heal a vampire? A spell, a ritual? I know it's not your usual practice to help them, but I though you might know." (her voice trails off)

Giles: (concerned frown) "I'm happy to research it, but it's rather unlikely considering my sources. There was something we came across a few years back, but it required the blood of the vampire's sire and, uh, well, Spike's sire was..."

Miranda: "Killed by me."

Giles: "Maybe just a steady inflow of blood would do. I can go with you to the butchers in town—we should be able to get a decent stockpile of cow's blood."

A pause as she waits patiently for another suggestion. When it doesn't come, she looks up and with a touch of desperation in her voice, says...

Miranda: "So that's it, then? The extent of your advice—cow's blood."

Giles: "I don't know what else to suggest. He's a vampire. As you mention, helping is not exactly a Watcher's forte."

Miranda: "I see. (Pause for a moment; then she gets up to go.) I know where the butcher shops are. Thanks for your time." (Overly polite. She's frustrated and has shut herself back off.)

Giles: "Don't go. Anya will be back in a moment and I can go with you—maybe get a bite to eat. You look exhausted."

But by the time he's said this, she is out the door. He looks concerned.

More time passes. Things continue as before. Miranda has bought some more painkillers. Spike seems to have plateaued in his recovery. In a lucid moment, Spike takes the vial of painkiller and smashes it against the wall.

Spike: "We can't go on like this, love. I want to help you, but I can't. No more drugs...no more blood. You need to take care of yourself."

Miranda: "I know. (pause) I want you to help me. I want things to go back..."

Spike: "I'm not getting any better. (conspiratorially; a whisper) We need to _do_ something."

She looks at him for a moment; then down as she clenches her teeth slightly and takes a breath. They've talked about this before. She's been over it and over it in her mind—perhaps it's the drugs or the depression, but she has convinced herself that it's the only way to restore him.

Miranda: (Pained, but resigned voice.) "How many?"

Spike: (Seeing that she understands; shrugging) "Don't know. Three, maybe four. (pause) The dregs, love."

Miranda: (nodding; very serious) "I'll get you three. Three and then we never speak of it again. (Spike nods in agreement) How long? How long can they be...(beat) dead, before..."

Spike: "A few minutes. At most."

Miranda: (lighting a cigarette) "I'll bring them here, then. (pause) The dregs."

She gets up and heads to the bathroom to take a shower. When she comes out, she's dried her hair and put make-up on. She starts putting on nightclub clothes. As she's about to head upstairs...

Spike: "Miranda, wait. Forget it. Maybe try the hospital—blood bank or something. Maybe..."

Miranda interrupts him.

Miranda: (in a casual voice) "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm going out for drink is all."

He doesn't say anything, but instead just gives a small nod. She leaves the bedroom. Once upstairs, she picks up the phone and dials.

Miranda: (putting on an American accent) "I'm a friend of Eddie's from New York. Mir—he'll know me as Randa. I need to call in a favor. Have someone call me in an hour at XXX XXX XXXX."

She hangs up, grabs her cell phone and leaves the house. Sometime in the middle of the night, she returns home and gets into bed, saying nothing.

tbc...


	18. Chapter 18

Author's warning: death and dark themes in this chapter...

Scene 11

(Author's note: More brief summaries.) The basic gist is that Miranda lures two people to the house the following night—the worst kind of people she can find in and around Sunnydale (let's think of Sunnydale as a bit more LA than Santa Barbara, just for now ( more bad people)). The first is a drug dealer—the one she's dealt with on occasion. The other a 'madame', but the kind who deals in kidnapped Russian girls. Very methodically, she seeks them out and cleverly discerns how to best get them to come home with her—she appears to have had some experience with this and goes about it in a calm, almost business-like fashion. Once at the house, the plan is to snap their necks and feed them to Spike. The dealer gives her a bit of a fight, but overall everything goes as planned. Once Spike is done with them, she carries the bodies to the upstairs bathroom. She goes out for a third time, but it's not so easy. She doesn't have a pick this time—maybe she didn't think there would need to be three. She just wanders around the city (the "bad" part of town)—by this time it is the middle of the night. She passes a homeless man, a hooker—no, not quite right. She's about to give up and go home for the night when she sees a girl walking down an alley—Dawn's age, maybe a bit older. Something about the girl piques Miranda's interest and for no clear reason she starts to follow her. The girl's face shows the ghost of past tears but her demeanor now is calm, almost peaceful. Occasionally she pauses and looks up at the buildings on either side of the alley. After a couple of blocks, she makes her selection and begins to climb the fire escape. Once she has gone up a few stories, Miranda quietly follows. Even though it is not entirely easy to be 'stealthy' on a fire escape and Miranda can't help but make a bit of noise, the girl is oblivious—she is entirely focused. A few stories from the top, Miranda stops climbing and watches quietly. The girl has reached the top and carefully climbed to the roof. Once there, she moves to the side a couple of steps (to avoid the fire escape) and without looking down, steps off. Miranda, only two stories below is able to reach out and just grab hold of the girl as she passes the fire escape. The force of the fall pulls Miranda over the railing, but she locks her feet and so doesn't flip over and fall with the girl. She pulls them both up and over the railing—she sets the girl down and takes a breath. After the girl gets her bearings she hisses:

Girl: "What did you do that for? You _ruined_ it." (Then she thinks of something, kicks Miranda hard in the shin and tries to jump off the fire escape. Miranda grabs hold of her tightly, but she continues to struggle.) "Get away from me. It's MY life. My choice."

Miranda: "Just calm down a minute." (Miranda is struggling to keep hold as the girl wriggles.)

Girl: (Stopping the struggle for just a minute. Calm.) "Please. I don't want to be here any more. Let me go."

Miranda: "Don't worry. I'm not trying to save you—not permanently anyway. I think we can help each other."

Girl: "I was doing just fine on my own, thanks."

Miranda: "I'm not convinced this fall would've killed you—that's what you wanted, right? (The girl nods) It's not quite tall enough for a sure thing, so you'd have to hit the ground just so. If not, you'd have broken your legs, surely, and probably crushed your jaw—unimaginable pain, months in the hospital—enough to bankrupt your parents who will then just be more devastated when you eventually succeed. I can end it for you tonight without pain."

Girl: (a bit taken aback—not quite sure what to make of it.) "Why?"

Miranda: "I need something from you. You'll be helping someone I love. Do we have a deal?"

Girl: "How long will I have to wait?"

Miranda: "Not long. We just need to go back to my house. Thirty minutes."

Girl: "Promise? Cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-d...Promise tonight?"

Miranda: "You have my word."

The girl nods her approval and they head down the fire escape and make their way to the car. They get in without speaking. In the light of the car, Miranda notices scars on the girl's wrists.

Miranda: "You've tried before."

In response the girl just gives her a look and folds her arms so the scars aren't showing. Miranda starts the car and begins driving.

Girl: (staring out the window) "Helping. That's OK. Poetic." (Miranda just nods—you can tell she doesn't really want to talk to the girl. A few minutes pass in silence.) "You're telling the truth—we just passed the turnoff to the clinic." (She appears slightly more at ease. Then a look of confusion crosses her face as she gives Miranda a sideways look.) "Tell me why."

Miranda: "He's injured. He needs human blood to heal."

Girl: "Like a sacrifice. I've read about that. I'm a virgin—does that help?"

Miranda: "Uh, don't think so. It's not like I'll be tossing you into a volcano. He's a vampire, not a spirit or a god or whatever they use virgins for these days."

Girl: "Are you a vampire?"

Miranda: "No."

Girl: "I don't mind vampires much. When I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark and all types of monsters and ghosts—used to have nightmares. But never vampires. Don't know why."

Miranda: (considering for a moment) "I think it's the 'thrall' thing. The way they describe it in books—makes it seem less terrifying."

Girl: (shrugs) "Will he bite me—like in the movies? Will it hurt?"

Miranda: "No, he won't bite. I'll make it quick and painless—then he'll drink."

Girl: "And it will make him better?" (Miranda nods) "Can I see him first?"

Miranda: (mildly upset by the idea) "Why would you want...? (looking over at her—getting it) All right. (pause) He's very handsome."

They arrive at the house and go inside.

Miranda: "Let me just check on him—I'll come back up to get you."

Girl: (a touch of panic in her voice) "No! Don't leave me. I...I might try to run away."

Miranda frowns at this, but doesn't say anything. She opens the door to the basement and nods for the girl to follow her. The girl takes hold of Miranda's hand without a word as they descend. When they get to the bedroom, Spike is sitting up against the headboard—he'd heard the door open upstairs. At the site of the girl, his expression turns to confusion.

Spike: "What are we _babysitting_ now? Friend of Dawn's or something? A bit young to have committed crimes against humanity. (beat) Kids these days."

He's joking—he doesn't believe this girl is the last offering.

Miranda: "Rest assured, love, she bought herself a one-way ticket to eternal damnation and hellfire—if you believe in that sort of thing. She's been looking for a way out of this life. I was lucky enough to catch her on the way down. And lucky for her, it's now murder instead of suicide, so her soul will be decidedly lighter—if, as I mentioned before, you believe in that sort of thing."

Spike: "Everybody wins."

You can tell by his expression that he's not quite sure about this. The girl tentatively walks over to the bed and sits next to Spike, looking at him inquisitively. After studying his face for a moment, she turns her head just slightly and gives Miranda a little smile before turning back to Spike to say:

Girl: (in a quiet, determined voice) "I'm Alice. I'm going to save you."

Spike: (smiling at her) "Is that right? I guess that makes you quite the little hero, then."

As he says this, Miranda has moved closer and with what seems the most subtle of movements quickly snaps the girl's neck. Spike actually appears a bit surprised—like he still didn't think she would do it. The look is reminiscent of the look on his face in 'Crush' when Dru snapped the girl's neck and threw the body to him.

Miranda: (as much to herself as to Spike) "She was already dead. She won't be punished for it." (she starts to walk up the stairs) "Bring the body upstairs with the others when you're done."

As she climbs the stairs, she can hear him start to drink from the girl. In the kitchen, she pours herself a drink and lights a cigarette. She takes her watch off and rubs the skin underneath.

(Author's note: I left something out of Miranda's general description. She always wears a somewhat unusual watch—it has a wide mesh metal band, with a smallish time-piece set in the middle. It conveniently covers a tattoo on her wrist—the tattoo is of the chain-link bracelet variety (it wraps around her wrist a couple of times). Most of the links are black, but some are red.)

She pulls out a phone book and is looking something up when Spike appears from the basement (she is standing at the kitchen counter). There is a sparkle in his eye and he looks stable and strong on his feet. He smiles broadly/devilishly at her and saunters over to where she's standing. He picks her up, swings her around and moves to put her down with her back to a wall. She looks reluctant.

Spike: "You did it love. You brought me back. Feel how warm I am. I feel...reborn. I think this is cause for celebration."

He moves in for a kiss. She turns her head and pushes him away.

Miranda: (her eyes flashing with anger, venomous) "No. no. I _can't_ celebrate it. William, I'm glad your better. I'd do it again. I'd do it a hundred times over for you—for us. But I won't celebrate it. I'm not...(looks down; shakes her head) Nevermind."

Spike: (finishing her thought) "Like me."

Miranda: (intently serious) "It will be OK. We'llbeOK. You know it bloody well wasn't the first time for me but maybe I'd hoped I'd seen the last already. There's no joy in this moment. (pause) Tomorrow things will be as they were before."

Spike: "The world is better off without 'em, luv, and the girl was already gone—you said yourself. Why beat yourself up about it?"

Miranda: "I need to go out for a bit. Bring the body upstairs, alright?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, but grabs her coat and starts to leave.

Spike: "What? Miranda..._don't_."

Miranda: (turning back to look at him. Sternly.) "William._ Tomorrow_."

She leaves. After a few minutes, he goes to follow her. A while later, we see her come out of a tattoo shop in town. Spike has been waiting outside. At first she doesn't notice him and walks right past.

Spike: "Kind of a strange time for body art, don't you think?"

Miranda: (frustrated sigh as she turns around to face him) "I wish you'd just stayed at home. This doesn't have anything to do with you."

Spike takes hold of her arm gently—he's seen through the window that she was having something done to her wrist. After studying her wrist for a moment, he looks up at her.

Spike: "Three new links. Two black and one red—red's for the girl, black the others. That what all these are?" (Miranda nods) "Some are gone—from the other end. Not recently." (He looks at her for an explanation.)

Miranda: "I burn them off myself with acid. A crude sort of record keeping, I guess. It's less clear when to remove them. (pause. Her tone has softened) I don't blame you for not understanding. It's not who you are—but I love who you are, so it doesn't matter. (beat) It _is_ who I am."

Spike: "Let's go home. It's almost tomorrow."

Miranda: (weak smile) "Almost"

As they approach the house, Miranda's cell phone rings. She answers. She is giving directions—whoever is calling will be there in 10 minutes. Spike asks her who it is. She tells him it's someone to dispose of the bodies. When they get inside, Spike lugs the girl's body upstairs with the others. After a few minutes, there is a knock at the door. Miranda answers it. A look of surprise crosses her face when she sees who it is—she quickly tries to cover, but it's rather obvious she is caught off guard.

Eddie:(New York/New Jersey accent) "What, surprised to see me, Randa? Who'd ya' expect?"

(Author's note: I wrote this scene before I started watching the Sopranos, but now that I think about it, I could picture Eddie as sorta looking/talking like Tony Soprano. If that helps with the visualization….)

Miranda: "I...I thought they'd just send someone to do the job." (She's speaking with an American accent.)

Eddie: "And miss the chance to see an old friend? I happened to be in Vegas when you called, so I had the fellas bring me along. Aint ya' gonna invite us in?"

Miranda: "Of course. Sorry." (She steps aside to let the three men come inside.)

Eddie: "You understand if I don't do formal introductions."

Thug#1: (straight to business) "Couple of questions, miss, so we know where to start. How many bodies?"

Miranda: "Three. In the bathroom at the top of the stairs."

Thug#1: "What kinda shape they in? (noticing that she doesn't understand what he's asking) "Will you be needing a clean-up—blood and such?"

Miranda: "No—they're quite clean. (turning to Eddie) Take whatever means necessary to be sure they never resurface."

Thug#1 mumbles something to thug#2 and they head back out to the car to get supplies. As they go about their business, Eddie turns his attention to Miranda.

Eddie: "How 'bout a proper 'hello' now, Rand?" (She smiles uncomfortably as he leans in for a cheek kiss and then holding her shoulders, studies her face for a minute) "Now how is it that you don't look a day older than the last time I saw you, while I've turned into an old fart?"

Miranda: "Cosmetics are amazing these days."

Eddie: "And I suppose a surgeon or two, am I right? (Laughs as he shakes his head) Amazing. (Just then Spike comes down the stairs, helping the thugs with the bodies. He leaves the two to bring the bodies out to the car and leans against the wall, lighting a cigarette) This the new guy?"

Miranda: "Spike, this is Eddie—an old associate of mine from New York. Eddie, this is Spike." (Spike just nods a greeting.)

Eddie: "I guess 'old' is the operative word. Looks like you're doing a bit of cradle robbin', eh Randa? (turning his attention back to Miranda) "What I don't get is after spending what must've been a fortune to keep your looks, you didn't have 'em take out that scar—must have sentimental value, eh?"

Miranda: "Cat fight. A present from Spike's ex."

Eddie: (throaty laugh) "Thanks for giving me something to think about on the ride back to Vegas. (glancing toward Spike) She tell you 'bout me?"

Spike: "Not as such."

Eddie: (amused) "heh, listen to Monty-fuckin'-python over here. Anyway. I met Randa, what was it, 20, 25 years ago? Heard about her from some fella's downtown. She'd done a few jobs here and there. Had a reputation for being discrete. There was some internal business we had to take care of—had to look like the hit came from outside. Took a chance and gave her the job. Now usually, after a situation like that, the Family doesn't like to leave...evidence...walking around. So after she'd made good, it was my job to take her out. Well, lets just say things didn't go as planned. After months of trying, we struck a deal. After that, she became quite an asset. (to Miranda) We made a damn good team for a while there."

You can tell by his intonation that he means more than just a working relationship.

Miranda: (Cold. Irritated that he's decided to share this part of her past) "We were never a team, Eddie."

Eddie: (a bit burned by this, but he attempts to put on a happy/nostalgic face. Shrug.) "Memory is a funny thing. Oh, but now for the best part. The thing that made Randa go down in history, amongst a certain crowd. There was this snitch—an ex hit-man named (catching himself)—let's call him Johnnie. Johnnie had been the best of the best. A life-er. We tried everything and everyone to get to him, but he was slipperier than an eel, this guy. He went underground before he even testified—blew off even the feds. It got embarrassing—no one could take him out. Finally, Randa says she'll do it for $200 grand. Guaranteed. Everyone was just desperate enough to shell out that kind of dough. Hell, even I didn't think she could do it, so what's the harm, right? But wouldn't you know, she came through. How long did it take?"

Miranda: (pained look) "Three months."

Eddie: "Three months. She was a fuckin' hero—to a certain circle a' guys. 'Course I never found out how she managed it, because, what do you know, but she didn't claim the money. Two hundred grand and she skips town. There were rumors that she'd gone soft—that it was some kind of fuckin' statement. Something about the guy's family. (shrug) People started talkin' like maybe she thought she was too good to take our money. Not me. I knew there had to be another reason. I told them all to go to hell; Randa's got a plan—not like you can go back from a life like that, am I right? Sometimes a favor is worth more than cash. So it looks like I was right all along."

Miranda: (scowling, but too bitter to contradict him) "I guess so."

Eddie: (detecting her slightly condescending tone) "You know, I've moved up in the world since then. I give the orders now. If you're ever looking for work..." (Miranda interrupts)

Miranda: (abruptly) "I won't be."

Eddie: (annoyed; sizing her up—maybe he was wrong) "Suit yourself. (formally) As of tonight, the XXX Family's debt to you is repaid in full. (Holds out his hand to shake on it. After they shake, the men walk out the door. Eddie stops just as he's leaving and turns around) A bit of advice. A little hospitality can go a long way in this world. Keeps the bridges from burning."

He leaves and she shuts the door behind them. When she turns around, Spike is lighting a cigarette for them both—he hands her one.

Spike: "Talkative bloke, isn't he?"

Miranda: "Always was."

She frowns slightly; worried that Spike will start asking questions and not wanting to talk about it—it's a painful enough memory, that phase of her life.

Spike: "So you two had a thing?"

Miranda: (She smiles at this. Of course, Spike would be more interested in the details of their relationship than the revelation that she was, at one time, actually a contract killer. Guess that is one advantage to dating a vampire. In fact, she's so relieved at the realization that she doesn't ever have to worry about Spike judging her that she starts to laugh. She stops after a moment to say:) "We fooled around a bit. It was nothing, really. (pause) He was better looking then."

Spike: "Seemed alright. (pause) Can we trust him?"

Miranda: (more serious) "To a point."

Spike: (slight head tilt) "You regret it."

Meaning her previous occupation, not the relationship. It's half way between a statement and a question—he's trying to understand.

Miranda: "Yes."

Spike: "So why'd you do it? For him?" (Touch of jealousy)

Miranda: (Shaking her head in disgust) "No."

Spike: "For the money?"

Miranda: (Thinking about it for a moment) "Didn't hurt. (It's obvious that isn't the primary reason. She tries to think of a way to explain it) D'you notice anything different about me? Since yesterday?"

Spike: (He studies her for a moment—thinks of something.) "You stopped crying. (pause—thinks about the timing—when her husband died) You did it to stop the tears." (Miranda doesn't answer, but just takes a long drag from her cigarette. He nods, but can sense that she doesn't want to talk about it anymore. After a short pause) "Is it wrong that I find your American accent kind of sexy?"

Miranda: (rolls her eyes) "Tomorrow."

They go to bed.

As promised, they wake up the next day and things pretty much appear to go back to normal. They spend the time before dark putting things back in order in the house. They spend some time taking a leisurely bath and Miranda helps Spike touch up his hair. (Author's note: that was added after CRAZY!Blackroots!Spike of the beginning of Season 7—if they imply that his hair grows and thus roots need to be re-dyed then fine by me. I think it's kind of adorable thinking about the two of them dying and cutting Spike's hair. Teehee. Thanks ME for another impossible vampire tidbit :). Of course, Angel's hair doesn't grow, but WHATEVER). They decide on a story to tell Buffy and the others to explain Spike's sudden recovery—he's actually still not at 100. More like 80, but that is a vast improvement. They go out to get some dinner and Miranda eats an inconceivable amount of food.

Another Author's note: So I had a number of scenes that I am going to skip over—they really would be considered 'fluff'/filler episodes. Although fun, they don't really add much to the story and so I will simply summarize them below and move on to the next action-y bit.

Feeling better, Miranda re-opens the shop and Anya returns to work part-time. M decides to do her best to 'stockpile' her blood (for Spike) in case of a future emergency and so gets the necessary equipment to draw and store blood. Spike continues to get better slowly. Things are good and generally go on as before. Miranda and Anya become good friends, much to the dismay of Xander and Spike who are forced to spend more time together than either of them would like as a result. Hilarity ensues. M&An shop, talk about sex; pretty much do all the usual 'girlie' things. An Immortal friend of Miranda's, Duncan, comes to visit—someone she utterly adores. He was the best man at her wedding (he was good friends with Cal). He's very handsome and creates quite a ruckus amongst the Scooby women. Hilarity ensues. (Author's note: Um, this friend of Miranda is actually Duncan from the Highlander TV series. Having only watched maybe 3 episodes in my life, there is an awful lot of speculation on my part about his past/personality, etc. But I couldn't resist, because he's just so darn cute and it kinda/sorta seemed appropriate that they would know each other.) They discuss the pregnancy—Duncan clearly understands the pain of not being able to have children. He doesn't quite know what to think about her dating/living with a vampire. She insists that Spike makes her happy and so he tries to have an open mind—still, you can tell he's concerned. They all drink lots of scotch and get drunk. Hilarity ensues.

Sometime later, Miranda gets a call from Angel. He sounds pushed to the limit—something is going on in LA that he doesn't think he can handle. He doesn't give her any details, but asks if she could come down. (Author's note: this is during the time of season 2, when Angel is being tormented by Darla and W&H rather constantly AND is somewhat on the outs with the rest of the MoG. He sounds desperate. She agrees to go. Spike argues, but she explains that they owe Angel. He's helped them twice. Reluctantly, Spike agrees. They decide that Spike should stay behind because he's still not at full strength and also Miranda would like him to take care of a few business related things in town. She says she'll probably be back in a few days. Spike tells her to go to a bar if she gets horny this time. He's jealous, but feels secure enough to not worry too much. About an hour after Miranda leaves, Angel calls the house. He tells Spike that he made a mistake and that Miranda doesn't need to come now. But, of course, she's already left.

tbc...


	19. Chapter 19 being Part 5

SIX MONTHS LATER...

Part 5

Scene 1

Los Angeles. City sidewalk at night. Miranda and Spike are walking side by side, a slight distance apart.

Spike: "So remind me why we're not staying at Duncan's flat tonight."

Miranda: "Think he might still be a bit cross about that little incident in Prague. I'd rather get all the horribleness over in one go tomorrow."

Spike: "Right. (beat) He was rather insistent on the phone about the whole 'laying low' business."

Miranda: (mildly mocking) "Suddenly you're little miss play-by-the-rules? (He gives her a knowing look. Seeing it, she catches herself as if being reluctantly reminded of something) We're going to a demon bar, anyways. I didn't even know they existed until I moved to Sunnydale so the odds are fairly low we'll run into anyone important."

Spike: "Guess we could use a stiff drink. What's so special about this place that we had to slog halfway across town?"

Miranda: "I know the owner. He's got a beat on most of the demon goings on about town. He might be able to help us with our little side mission." (she gives him a sideways smile/smirk)

Spike: (teasing) "Can't imagine what you're talking about."

Miranda: (pouty frown) "I'm not saying we have to do anything about it right now, but we could at least ask."

They're now outside the entrance to the club and they stop before going in. Spike lights a cigarette. This conversation obviously means more to him than he's letting on—he's playing it cool.

Spike: (looking up casually) "So, when did you have in mind?"

Miranda: (thinking for just a moment and then smiling devilishly) "Saturday."

Spike: "As in, the day after tomorrow?"

Miranda: "That's the one."

Spike: (shaking his head) "Not going to happen, pet."

He drops the half-smoked cigarette on the ground and puts it out with his boot. Miranda isn't surprised. She lets the subject drop and moves to open the door to the club and go in.

Miranda: "I'll have to check my sword—he's got some anti-violence spell on the place, but still likes to keep weapons inside to a minimum."

As they walk in, there is a bored-looking demon standing in front of what looks exactly like a coat check (complete with tip jar stuffed with $1bills), but instead of coats hanging on hangers, there are weapons of every conceivable kind. Miranda hands over her sheathed sword and gets a ticket. There is a curtain separating this room from the main part of the club. Spike steps ahead and pulls the curtain aside for Miranda and as she starts to walk through, says somewhat begrudgingly…

Spike: "So maybe I'll mention it."

Miranda's face erupts in a huge smile at this as they continue to walk into the club (it's Caritas, Lorne's club). They find an open bar table. Miranda stands by it, while Spike goes to the bar to get drinks. She is somewhat nervously scanning the crowd. Suddenly, she spots Lorne who has just noticed her too. He immediately comes over and they exchange cheek kisses—they are both happy to see each other.

Lorne: "Sorry I didn't return your call earlier—was in the middle of a screaming match with my florist—a real knock-down, drag out over some pathetic passion flowers he was trying to charge me an arm and a leg for, (beat) literally. But I was so happy to hear you were in town—we could use some color in here. (Looking at her shirt, which is a dark purple, close fitting peasant top) That shirt totally brings out the purple flecks in your aura—ya' still have the brightest in town."

Miranda: "Wonderful to see you, too. How's business?"

Lorne: "Not bad. Same old, same old. (a bit more serious) He's faded back to a cloudy dark grey since you left—maybe a hint of blue every now and again, but...(shaking his head; then a bit of optimism)...now that you're back, maybe...(noticing her reaction; realizing something) That's why you called. No need to worry your pretty little head—he's not here."

Spike comes back with drinks. He hands one to Miranda.

Miranda: "Lorne, I'd like you to meet Spike"

Lorne: (giving him a once over) "Pleasure."

Spike: (nods a greeting) "Quite a place you got here."

Lorne: "We aim to please."

Miranda: (to Spike) "Oh, love, would you mind getting me a glass of water at the bar—I forgot to mention it before."

He frowns ever so slightly and then walks back over to the bar. Miranda and Lorne watch him walk away.

Miranda: "Isn't he..."

Lorne: (finishing her thought) "Scrumptious? I'll say. Is it serious? (Miranda just smiles; Lorne looks concerned) You take care, girl. (lightly) It's always the pretty ones who turn around and bite you in the ass. (clarifying) In a bad way."

Spike returns with the water. Miranda takes a sip.

Lorne: "So what brings you two love birds into town?"

Miranda: "Just some business. You haven't heard any buzz about a weapon called Lucifer's Sword, have you?"

Lorne: "Hm, now where have I heard that before...Lucifer's Sword...oh yeah, Gunn was in here asking about it last week."

Spike: "Who's Gunn?"

Miranda: "You remember—he works with Angel. (to Lorne) What did you tell him?"

Lorne: "All that I'd heard—zippo."

Miranda: "It's an Immortal thing, so I'm not surprised. Anyway, I need to pop over to the loo. Spike, while I'm gone why don't you ask Lorne about the minion thing-ys that Duncan mentioned. And, well, anything else that comes to mind." (quick smile as she leaves)

Lorne: "Is it me, or was that a not particularly well-veiled attempt to get the two of us alone?"

Spike: (smiling a bit) "Miranda always has an agenda. Back to the matter at hand—Seen any new and interesting minion-types hanging about—priests, monks, that sort?"

Lorne: "Nothing comes to mind. Don't usually get that kind in here much—they're typically all about the deprivation thing. I can put the word out. Let you know if I hear anything."

Spike: "Yeah, alright."

Lorne: "Anyway, I should make the rounds (looking around the bar). Tell Miranda to be sure to give me a goodbye hug before you take off."

Spike: "Hang on a minute. One more thing. (now looking slightly uncomfortable) Uh, know anyone around here who does ceremonies...of, uh, the commitment-type and the like, for demons?"

Lorne: (surprised) "What, you two kittens thinkin' about tying the knot?"

Spike: (macho) "You know what birds are like—gotta give 'em something else they get all pouty and needy all the time. Not really my thing, but..."

Lorne: (obviously conflicted) "Most of the fellas 'round town aren't too keen on performing mixed unions—if you catch my drift."

Spike: (slightly defensive/indignant) "It's not like she's human or anything. But, uh, so people..._demons_ do that sort of thing." (It's somewhere between a statement and a question.)

Lorne: "Sure. Varies by species. Don't usually get too many vamps looking for that kind of commitment."

Spike: (as if to explain) "Yeah, but Miranda's...well, she's...(pause) _Miranda_."

Lorne: "Couldn't've put it better myself, cheeks. Still, don't know that I can think of anyone offhand who'd be willing and able. I'll get back to ya'. (beat) Toodles."

Lorne leaves the table a bit too hastily. Spike just frowns slightly and takes a drink. Miranda comes back after a minute.

Miranda: "Any luck?"

Spike: "None to speak of."

Miranda: "Well then. I guess all we have left to do is have another drink. (She finishes her cocktail and they order another around, this time from a waitress) You know what? I think I'm going to sing you a song."

Spike: (smiling) "Oh yeah? What kind of song?"

Miranda: "hmmm. How about a love song?"

Spike: "Boring."

Miranda: (getting an idea) "How about a rather sexy obsessive-scary-stalker kind of love song? There'll be suggestive writhing..."

Spike: "Sounds a bit more interesting."

Miranda: "Garbage it is, then."

She gets up to put in her request for music. She comes back, they sit at the table and chat and have another drink. Finally, it's her turn to sing. She goes up to the stage (BTW, she's wearing the purple shirt I already described and black leather pants—her midriff shows and she has a pierced bellybutton with a delicate chain hooked on the hoop and stretching around her waist.) The music starts—she's totally vamping it up (so to speak), moving suggestively to the music. The song is Crush by Garbage. note, if you haven't heard it, it's very darkly hypnotic. Actually, it's rather hard to describe. It's on the Soundtrack to Romeo & Juliet (1996)

Lyrics:

I would die for you

I would die for you

I've been dying just to feel you by my side

To know that you're mine

I will cry for you

I will cry for you

I will wash away your pain with all my tears

And drown you fear

I will pray for you

I will pray for you

I will sell my soul for something pure and true

Someone like you (smirk)

See your face every place that I walk in

Hear your voice every time that I'm talking

You will believe in my

And I will never be ignored

I will burn for you

Feel pain for you

I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart

And tear it apart

I will lie for you

Beg and steal for you

I will crawl on hands and knees until you see

You're just like me

Violate all the love that I'm missing

Throw away all the pain that I'm living

You will believe in me

And I could never be ignored

I would die for you

I would kill for you

I would steal for you

I'd do time for you

I would wait for you

I'd make room for you

I'd sail ships for you

To be close to you

To be part of you

'Cause I believe in you

I believe in you

I would die for you

As she sings, she gets the bar's attention. Lorne is watching intently until someone (one of his employees) steps up to him and whispers in his ear. He immediately heads to the entrance, where he finds Angel arguing with the bouncer who is trying to not let him pass. This all takes place in the alley by the back door of the club.

Angel: "What the hell is your problem?"

The bouncer just points to the sign that says: We Have the Right to Deny Anyone Admittance.

Lorne: (cheerily) "Need to talk to me, dumpling? What can I do you for?"

Angel: (annoyed) "Maybe I just want to have a drink. (skeptical look from Lorne) Ok, maybe I'm looking for one of my informants...to, uh, get some_ information_."

Lorne: "Sorry, he's not here tonight. Now scurry off back to the hotel and I'll give you a ring as soon he sets foot inside. buh-bye now."

Angel: "You don't even know who I'm talking about."

Lorne: "Neither do you."

Angel: (busted) "She's in there tonight. That's why you don't want me to go in."

Lorne: "Don't be silly. It's not that I don't want you to go in, it's just...well...yeah, I got nothin'. Go home, Angel-cake."

Angel: "I just want to see her."

Lorne: "Trust me. You don't want to go in there."

Angel: "She's singing."

Lorne: "She's not alone. Just do yourself and everyone else a favor and skedaddle."

Angel: "Is she OK? Did you talk to her?"

Lorne: "She looks good—seems happy."

Angel: (Takes this in and nods. He looks miserable) "Good. That's good. I guess...maybe you're right. What's the point?"

Lorne: "Of course I'm right. I'm the Host."

Angel: "I'll just sit out here for a minute and then take off."

Lorne: "Take your time. (he turns to go) Kisses to the gang."

Lorne comes back inside and listening to Miranda sing the last bit of the song, he walks over to the table where Spike is sitting. Spike looks up briefly to acknowledge that he knows he's there, but continues to watch Miranda.

Lorne: (serious) "She means every word, you know. Haven't seen that kind of intensity since...(pause) well, a while. (Spike doesn't say anything. Lorne takes something out of his pocket—it's a business card and he hands it to Spike.) This guy'll hook you up. Tell him I sent you and he'll knock 40 off the price. Take good care of her. She's an angel." (He leaves)

Miranda walks back over to the table, but instead of taking her seat, she straddles Spike in his chair.

Miranda: "Ready to go, love?"

Spike: (He pops the card in his shirt pocket and then grabs hold of her hips with his hands) "Think we got what we came for."

They both get up and head towards the door.

Miranda: "Let me just say goodbye to Lorne."

She walks the few steps over to where he's standing and gives him a kiss goodbye.

Lorne: "Take care now, sweets."

Miranda: "You too."

She starts to walk off, but Lorne stops her briefly.

Lorne: "It was him all along, wasn't it?"

She just smiles and continues on. She catches up with Spike at the door, they pick up her sword and leave. Just outside the entrance, Spike pushes Miranda gently, but forcefully, back against the wall of a nearby building and kisses her. He moves his hands downward from her shoulders, feeling her breasts through her shirt, on their way to her waist where he then moves them around to her back, pulling her hips toward his.

Miranda: (slightly breathless) "Did you like my song?"

Spike: (he nods) "You looked very sexy up there, fondling the microphone."

Miranda: "I meant it, you know. All of it."

Spike: "So I hear."

Miranda: (she looks straight into his eyes) "But do you believe me yet?"

He doesn't answer, but kisses her instead. They kiss for a bit, rubbing their bodies against each other in the alley. Things start to heat up.

Spike: (in between kisses) "Maybe we should head back—continue this somewhere a bit more private."

Miranda: "But it's such a long way; I don't want to wait that long."

Spike: (devilish grin as he breaks away from her long enough to look around) "Not here—I get the feeling someone's watching us. Maybe just a surveillance camera or something."

Miranda: "Ever done it in a car?"

He just gives her a 'duh, of course' look. She pulls away, taking his hand and walks toward the street where there are cars parked.

Miranda: "But have you ever done it in a beamer?"

She smiles at the car they're standing next to and without even trying the locks, she pulls out her sword and smashes the passenger-side window with the handle. Unfortunately, the minute the window breaks, a very annoying car alarm goes off, breaking the mood.

Spike: "Do you know how to turn those off?"

Miranda: "Not a clue, do you?"

Spike: "We'd better get out of here" (he grabs her hand and they rush off, laughing.)

A few minutes later, inside their hotel room. M&S are just walking through the door of their room. They look cheery like they've been having some fun.

Spike: "Have a fondness for breaking windows, then do you?"

Miranda: "I'd never tried it before, but once I started I couldn't seem to stop."

Spike: "Not exactly keeping a low profile, though, is it?"

Miranda: "We didn't get arrested or anything."

Spike: "_Almost_. Almost didn't get arrested."

Miranda: (smirking broadly) "I told you before, I'm getting in touch with my inner teenager. (Suddenly her smirk melts into a slightly more serious face) It wasn't wrong, was it?"

She appears to be asking an honest question as if she doesn't know the answer.

Spike: (answering her back in kind) "Not exactly the behavior of a model citizen, but no, not wrong. What would you have done if the cops had tried to arrest you?"

Miranda: (without thinking; flippantly) "I wouldn't have let them, of course."

He gives her a knowing look. She frowns slightly and nods. Her expression changes once again, now looking at Spike longingly as she saunters over to where he's standing. She puts her hands on his chest and touches her forehead to his.

Miranda: (soft, seductive whisper) "What would I do without you, William?"

Spike: (a touch of bitterness) "We already know the answer to that now, don't we pet?"

Miranda: (pretending not to hear) "The song didn't say everything. Left out one tiny little detail. Let's review—there was dying, pain, tears, burning, aching. But no love. (She pulls her head back slightly and looks Spike dead in the eye) I love you."

Spike: (He looks somewhat agitated as she says this (jaw clench) and he turns his head to the side, away from her gaze. You almost think he might push her away, but he doesn't. He takes an unnecessary breath before looking at her and saying forcefully) "You know I can't."

At this, she closes her eyes for just a moment (maybe trying to remember a time when he'd always answer back in kind) and lets a soft smile slide across her lips.

Miranda: "I know."

She goes to step back, but he stops her by gently grabbing hold of her shoulders. He stares at her for a moment, obviously conflicted. Just then, the phone rings. Spike steps over to the phone and answers it. After saying a few words, he hangs up and Miranda looks to him for explanation.

Spike: "Duncan. Wants to change the meet time to 7. Didn't see a problem. How long does it take, to..."

He stops as they lock eyes. Just the thought of whatever it is 'tomorrow' brings is like a spark in a room full of flammable liquid—they lunge at each other, grabbing desperately at each other's clothes, kissing roughly. She pushes him back against the wall and leaving his lips, she moves down to bite his nipple through his tight black t-shirt. He gasps with pleasure.

Miranda:"Still sore?"

Spike: "A bit."

Miranda: "good".

She pulls up his shirt, revealing a newly pierced nipple with a small gold hoop.

(Author's note: I hate to break up this scene, but there is a bit of flashback smut that tells the story of the nipple ring. It's relatively short, so I'll just paste it in (I wrote it as a separate PWP before I'd gotten to this part of the story).)

Begin flashback:

It's near dusk. Miranda quietly sneaks into Spike's crypt. He's sleeping on the bed; He is on his back; his bare chest showing above the sheet, which covers him below the waist. She takes off her shoes and moves silently to the bed, pulling something out of her jacket as she places her bag over a chair. She slinks onto the bed. He stirs, but stays sleeping. She stops to look at him for a moment and then carefully slips a silk scarf under his arm, wrapping it around his wrist. She takes the other end and ties it tightly to the bed-post. The next one will be tricky, as his arm is folded over his chest. She takes the other scarf and deftly wraps it around the other wrist. She knows she won't be able to tie it to the bedpost without waking him—she just needs a moment, so runs her fingers across his chest as she leans over him. "We're going to have a bit of fun, tonight, William.", she whispers in his ear. As he stirs slowly, she quickly tightens the second scarf to the bed-post, yanking his arm backwards. He wakes with a jolt and yanks at the scarves, which hold fast. He sees her and quickly understands. He smirks and says with his deep groggy/sleepy voice "What is my naughty girl up to tonight? I thought you didn't like this." He looks very pleased). She brings her finger to her lips and says "shhhhhh" as she pulls out a third scarf. He watches her greedily as she leans over to tie the scarf over his eyes, her face centimeters from his, as she reaches behind his head. She looks for a moment like she might kiss him, but as he reaches up to her with his mouth, she stays just out of reach. She sits back surveying her handiwork. "You see, Spike, I just couldn't stop thinking about you. Well, a very particular part of you, that is, and you know me, once I have an idea in my head, I lose all patience." She runs her hand down his neck and down his chest as she says this. "I mean, I know what you said about wanting your space and all; I thought about it, but decided against it." He laughs at this. "So, uh, which part _exactly_ held your attention?". She puts her fingers to her lips again "shhhhh. You're not allowed to speak; you'll find out soon enough." With that she unbuttons her blouse and then leans over him. She begins with his neck and slowly kisses down his chest. She stops at his left nipple and covers it with her mouth. She runs her tongue around it until she can feel it get firm; she bites it softly and he groans almost inaudibly. She moves to the right nipple. Same thing—she runs her tongue in circles and sucks until it is hard enough to nibble. She sits up. "So which one is it to be then? Both so very perky." She is moving her hands softly over his chest as she considers. "The left, I think." Spike, looking a bit confused, asks "what exactly …?" she shhes him again and gets up from the bed and pulls something else from her bag. "You see, I love your nipples, William, but I've been thinking that there just isn't quite enough to hold onto." With this, she puts an ice cube to his left nipple and holds it there. He gasps slightly. She is now straddling him, still dressed. She takes a bit of cloth and unfolds it on his chest. Inside there is a needle and a small hoop earring. "This will just hurt a bit, love", she says matter-of-factly. She removes the ice cube and quickly first puts the needle and then the earring quickly afterwards through his nipple. He yelps at this, but you can tell he's enjoying every minute. "See that wasn't so bad...(she feels him stir under her)...you liked that didn't you, pet". She reaches behind her and feels him hard under the sheet…he breathes in deeply at her touch. "It's bleeding a bit; let me take care of that." She licks the blood from his nipple and puts her mouth over it again, his body tightens, as it must still sting a bit. He bites his lower lip as she moves the ring around gently with her tongue. "See, more to fiddle with."

(edited to keep withing the rating--I think you know what happens next...)

Back to the present

AN: I can't bring myself to edit this part, so feel free to skip ahead if you want to avoid the love scene...just look for the row of x's.

She takes the ring and nipple in her mouth and then pulls away slightly, tugging at the ring with her teeth. Spike clenches his teeth and closes his eyes enjoying the exquisite pain. She moves to the other unadorned nipple and sucks until it's hard and then she takes a gentle nip with her teeth. He pulls her face up and kisses her forcefully as he spins her around, pushing her back against the wall. He moves his hands down to touch her breasts through her shirt and then quickly rips it open, revealing them. Gazing at her breasts, still mostly covered by her black velvet bra, he lifts one out from the cup and moves his lips down as if to lick it, but pauses, running his finger around her areola.

Spike: "Maybe you need a little something to grip, too".

Just the idea of it makes Miranda shiver, as she says emphatically

Miranda: "No. Absolutely not."

Spike: "We'll see."

He bites at her breast, gently, and then moves his hand to her waist, where he pulls at her chain (attached to her belly-button ring).

Spike: "This might do."

He moves back up and expertly reaches behind her and undoes the clasp to her bra, freeing them. He takes one in each hand and rubs them roughly as he kisses her. Feeling her nipples harden in his hands, he inspects the result of his handling.

Spike: "And why mess with perfection?"

He moves back in for more kissing and she spins him back around so that he's back against the wall again. She kisses across his cheek and takes the lobe of his ear into her mouth. She sucks and strokes it with her tongue—he whimpers with pleasure. She kisses down his neck and then drops to her knees—she reaches her hand up and feels the tight muscles of his stomach and strokes the soft, translucent blonde hair just above his belly button. At first he watches her, but just as her hands reach his belt, he closes his eyes and rests his head back against the wall. She unfastens his belt, but before undoing his pants, she rubs her hand over his erection, held tightly restrained by his jeans. After a moment, she rips open the buttons of his jeans and yanks them down to his knees. She hesitates for just a moment; he inhales, knowing what's next—his erection growing in anticipation of the warm softness of her mouth. When it doesn't come, he opens his eyes and looks down at her—this is what she was waiting for. She raises an eyebrow and touches her tongue to her teeth. He grabs her hair with his hand. She doesn't move, but continues to hold his gaze—daring him to push himself into her mouth. But she doesn't wait and instead gives him a sly smirk as she takes him in greedily. He responds with a satisfied hint of a snarl. She twirls her tongue around the tip and then takes the rest of him in as deeply as she can, using her hand to cover what her mouth can't. After a few minutes of this, Spike's knees start to buckle slightly and he moves to push her away.

Spike: "Your turn, baby."

But instead of letting him push her backwards onto the bed, she lunges forward again, taking him back into her mouth and sucking even more vigorously. This makes him moan and lean back harder into the wall.

Spike: (snicker) "Bad girl."

After a moment, he tries again, this time succeeding in getting her horizontal on the bed. All the time, watching her, he pulls off his remaining clothes and then methodically takes off her shoes and socks and pants and panties. Once they're both naked, he slides up next to her, moving his hands over her body, pausing briefly between her legs.

Spike: "I love that you get so wet when you suck on me." He moves his hands up to her face and kisses her deeply. In between kisses, she breathes...

Miranda: "I want you to bite me tonight."

Spike: (a bit surprised) "What about being fit for tomorrow?"

Miranda: (breathless) "Doesn't matter. I want to be inside you—a part of me inside you."

This adds even more intensity to his passion, and they cling tightly to each other, as if trying to melt together.

Spike: "When?"

Miranda: "Whenever. Don't warn me."

He pulls himself on top of her and then slides downward, first kissing her neck (she tenses slightly, thinking he might sink his teeth into her), then her breasts, then stomach (she relaxes, letting her knees fall loosely to the side). But instead of stopping where she's expecting, he continues down and kisses along the inside of her thigh, then pausing to suck on the top of her knee (why does that feel so good?) and finally down her calf to her feet, where he lovingly sucks on her big toe, twirling his tongue around it until she giggles and pushes him away (ticklish feet). He takes hold of her knees and after kissing each rather tenderly, he forcefully pulls them apart, pinning them to the bed. She gasps as he dives in between her legs and runs his cool tongue over her swollen, wet lips. Spike: "mmmm". He knows that it would only take a few seconds to send her over the edge (he knows exactly where and how to move his tongue to make her scream)—but that's too easy. Instead, he tries for the more elusive pleasure. He licks gently while pushing two fingers into her, palm up. She inhales sharply at this intrusion and then quivers, knowing what this means. His fingers move gently inside her, searching for just the right spot—finding it, he begins to move them rhythmically in time with his tongue. Her breathing starts to become erratic and he can hear her heart begin to beat more quickly. Soon she moves her pelvis against him, maximizing the friction. Her groans become more and more shrill as he expertly adjusts his movements to her needs/wants. He senses a quick change in the temperature of her body—a thin layer of sweat is forming. She is now absolutely lost in it—in him—his complete knowledge of her body. After a moment, she shrieks loudly—he can feel the muscles of her vagina convulsing against his fingers and the warm wetness that follows. The pleasure is so intense that a tear streaks down her cheek as she grabs the sheets tightly. But before she has a chance to relax after the intensity of her orgasm, he vamps out while turning his head and bites into her femoral artery. Totally unexpected, she screams in pain/pleasure, grabbing hold of the headboard tightly, desperately. He'd never bit her there. He only takes a few deep swallows and then grabbing the wound briefly with his hand (to slow the bleeding), he pushes her legs up with his shoulders as he moves forward and thrusts into her—the taste of her orgasm making him harder than he'd thought possible and filling him with the most exquisite longing for release. The tightness nearly unbearable, he pushes himself deeply inside her, enjoying her lingering muscle spasms. Still in vamp face (he's lost all control), he stares at her as he frantically tries to push himself deeper with every thrust. Then he pauses for just a moment. He lets her legs drop to the side (from where they were resting on his chest) and leans in closer to her face, drinking in her look of ecstasy and satisfaction. In a moment he returns to the forceful, rapid plunging and roars in pleasure as he explodes into her—his tightness flowing out in the most intense relief imaginable. He collapses on to her and they lay there for a time, both overwhelmed with the intensity of the evening.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After they've recovered for a moment, Spike rolls to the side and reluctantly starts to get up.

Miranda: (still looking a bit dreamy) "Where're you going?"

Spike: "To get a bandage for your leg—we've ruined the sheets already, but..." (smirk)

Miranda: (pulling the sheet back to show her thigh) "No need—It's stopped already. Maybe a bit of cream (she reaches over for a tube on the nightstand. As she rubs some cream over the healing wound, she smiles over at him) I love being sore in new places."

Spike: "Thought I'd go a bit closer to the source this time. It was worth it. (Watching her apply the cream—noticing that the bite's already scabbed over) That was fast."

Miranda: "Anything below the neck now heals almost instantly. It's a thing."

Spike: "There seem to be a lot of new _things_"

Miranda: "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spike: "Forget it"

He lays back down next to her and she turns over and drapes her arm across his chest. He strokes her hair absentmindedly—he's thinking about something. They lay like that for a time, both tired, but not drifting off to sleep.

Miranda: "Should we turn off the light?"

Spike: "Nah. I quite fancy a chat."

Miranda: (skeptical) "Really?"

Spike: "I've just been thinking 'bout some things is all."

Miranda: (a bit worried) "What sort of things?"

Spike: "Just things. (mock defensively) Hey, you used to be big on questions—hypothetical ones in particular. Now it's my turn."

Miranda: (grinning) "Okay. Let's have it."

Spike: "Would you prefer it if I were human?"

Miranda: (she laughs) "That's a ridiculous question. (He gives her that look that means 'if you answer too quickly, it means you're not taking me seriously and I'll be pissed'. Once she realizes he's serious and expects an answer, she can't help but feel a knot in the pit of her stomach. It isn't like him to think about such things—to question who he is. She sits up on her elbow and pretends (not too hard) to be serious, but her tone is obviously a bit tongue-in-cheek) Well, let's consider it. If you were human, I wouldn't need the bloody electric blanket all the time; Next time we're in Rio, we could go to the nude beaches...(clarifying)...during the day. It might be fun having a bit of sweat during sex—I miss that just a tad; Ooh (more excitement), we could find someone who looked like me, and you could knock her up and we could have a baby. Now on the other hand, we'd have to give up smoking—that would be dreadful; And there's the fun in the bath I'd have to do without; Not to mention the whole growing old business, which I wouldn't mind so much, as I can tell you'd age well, but there are the associated 'plumbing issues'. S'pose they do have Viagra now, but that frankly seems rather pathetic, doesn't it? And the aging would eventually lead to dying and I'd have to arrange to go with you because what would be the point living once you're gone. Suicide's not such a simple matter for an Immortal. A tricky business, that—requires planning. Think a guillotine's the way to go, but where would you buy one? God, and I can imagine the cost. There's the deal breaker. So, no, I think I can definitely say with conviction that I would not prefer it if you were human."

Spike: (A sideways eye roll as he chuckles slightly at her response. He has developed a certain affection for her rambling) "Not exactly what I meant—guess I was thinking about the whole 'soul' business that everyone's always going on about. (serious again) Would you prefer it if I had one like you, and..." (his voice trails off)

Miranda: (considering) "You'd be different. At least that's what everyone seems to think. How would I know if we'd still get on so well? Maybe you'd be all broody and miserable and unnaturally nice to stupid, silly people. (pause as she thinks for a moment, then a sigh) I think I'm supposed to think it matters—yes, I'm quite sure that's what I should think. But honestly, William, the only reason I would want you to have a soul—the only reason that means anything to me—is then I'd know where to look for you if you were ever taken from me. Now, there's only dust. If you had a soul, then maybe there'd be something to look for—something to find. (pause) But I don't even know if that's true."

He stares at her face as he contemplates her answer—He knows she's telling the truth, but there is something unsatisfying in that. He needs to know more.

Miranda: "Sleeping now?"

Spike reluctantly nods and she leans over to turn off the light. She turns away from him and they spoon. She closes her eyes. His stay open. Time passes. After about 10 minutes, he whispers in her ear.

Spike: "How long has it been? Since that night."

Miranda: (keeping her eyes closed) "Two months. About."

Spike: "All this time and I haven't asked. You asked me not to and I didn't. The nightmares. The changes. (pause) You're _different_."

She closes her eyes more tightly, as if she could block out what's about to happen by the force of her will.

Miranda: (still not moving a breath) "Is that a question or...?"

Spike: "Come on M. It's not like we both don't know what I'm talking about."

Miranda: (She does, but they haven't spoken about it. At least not explicitly) "Tell me."

Spike: (He frowns slightly. He doesn't want to waste time on this) "You just say and do things you normally wouldn't, is all. Things you sometimes regret, sometimes not—as if you don't remember. I mean, just last week you told Giles you wanted humanity to build you a castle."

Miranda: (defensively, but in a soft/weak voice) "Only if I won The Prize and became the Grand Protector of the mortal realm, or whatever it was he called it. It was a rubbish reference anyway—much too recent."

Spike: "Love, you mentioned _Versailles_."

Miranda: (She turns around to face him and speaks a bit more forcefully) "Only as the kind of thing to aspire to. I mean, Versailles only bankrupted one country—this would be the whole world and with everyone pitching in, I can't imagine it would be too much of a strain. Seems a small price if I'm going to be protecting everyone on a daily basis from some 'yet-to-be-announced' force."

Spike: (smiling just a bit) "And the strawberries?"

She'd suggested that perfectly fresh and seasonal strawberries could be flown in every day from wherever they were growing at that time of year.

Miranda: "All I'm saying is that it sounds like it would be a rather tough job, so having constant access to one's favorite fruit doesn't seem so unreasonable to me."

Spike: "Don't need to convince me, pet, but you said this to _Giles_. Giles, whose idea of excess is two sugars instead of one in his bloody afternoon tea. He was giving you that _look_. (remembering) Priceless. He was completely struck dumb. I'm sure he thought you were kidding around, but you weren't. (Return to a more serious tone) And then there was that time in Glasgow."

The mere mention of this causes Miranda to shrink back into herself. Like a little girl, she rolls back over, away from him, pulling the sheet up tight around her, shutting her eyes tightly.

tbc...


	20. Chapter 20

Scene 2

Flashback: Glasgow, six week's ago. Spike and Miranda are walking down a dark city street. Miranda is practically bouncing with enthusiasm/excitement.

Miranda: "I can't believe we found Gerald here of all places. Seems a fitting way to begin our European tour."

Spike: "You've got a specific beef with this one, right? Not just your average Immortal bristling."

Miranda: "He's one of the three who together gave me a lot of grief when I was in LA with Cal. It was Gerald, Victor, who you saw me kill, and Thomas—Gerald was the oldest and the leader. Wouldn't've considered taking him on before now." (She's buzzing with energy at the prospect.)

Spike: "So what's the plan? He ducked into that church pretty quick last night when he first sensed you."

Miranda: "I did a bit of research this afternoon and I came across a rather useful tidbit of information. It would appear that lucky Gerald has found himself a lovely Scottish girl—a mortal. Got married five years ago in that very church."

Spike: "We use the girl to bring him out. You got an address?"

Miranda: "No, but I know where we can find her. Seems he'd rather have kept her hidden and out of harms way on their secluded estate, but like a true modern woman, she refused to give up her career. So she comes into the city three days a week."

Spike: "Go feminism."

Miranda: "He'll probably have bodyguards with her now that he knows there's an Immortal about. And there will be a ton of security at her office. Lucky for us, he didn't actually see me, so he may not be so cautious—most others probably wouldn't take the time."

Spike: "So we grab the girl—what then?"

Miranda: "The usual Immortal jig. Threaten to kill her unless he comes out to face me."

Spike: "Seems an awful lot of trouble. You sure it's worth it? Plenty of other fish in the sea and all that."

Miranda: "It'll send a message. That's mainly what this trip is about—let the old ones know I'm here and not afraid."

Spike: (Accepts this. Thinking ahead) "But we _don't_, right?"

Miranda: "Don't what?"

Spike: "Kill the girl."

Miranda: "Heavens no. She's obviously not right in the head to marry a fool like Gerald, poor girl. So we use her as bait, kill Gerald and leave her to his money. Probably for the best anyway—seems the type to drop her once she starts to wrinkle. This way everyone wins."

Spike: "Except Gerald"

Miranda: "Well, yeah."

Spike: "If he knows you, what makes you think he won't call your bluff?"

Miranda: "I'm a wonderful actress—I think I can convince him that I've gone a bit mad. And of course I'll need your help to put on a good show."

Spike: "I could probably flash a bit of fang—put on a good menacing scowl."

Miranda: (smiles) "hmm, can't wait to see that. (planning the moment) Yes, you'll have her—he won't know you can't do her any real harm. He's sure to play, regardless if he knows what a vampire is or not."

Spike: "It's still a gamble."

Miranda: (shrugs) "So we take our chances—I'll find another way if necessary. (Thinking for a moment) We don't hurt the girl, whatever. (Spike nods. After a moment) He'll play—He'll know I'm serious. (She adds, casually) After all he did kill Isabella."

Spike stops in his tracks.

Spike: "Your daughter."

Miranda: (Noticing he has stopped while she marched on, she turns to face him. Her tone is still oddly lighthearted) "Yes. (beat)_ Adopted_ daughter. (She turns to keep walking) I think we should try to get her as soon as possible—he might try to leave town or get others involved."

Spike: (Still not budging and lightly grabbing hold of her arm.) "Gerald killed your daughter."

Miranda: "Yes, while I was at the hospital with Cal in those final days. Didn't I mention it?"

Spike: "Uh, _no_. Seems an odd detail to leave out. So this is a vengeance deal, then. "

Miranda: "Only a touch—an added bonus, if you like. Of course that's what I'll be selling it as to Gerald—vengeance pure and simple. Tends to make people mad, that." (Makes a 'crazy' face with hand motions as she says this.)

Spike: "Don't you think it a bit odd that you failed to let me in on this little detail?"

Miranda: "Pish posh. It's the past, darling. I didn't think you were interested in the past."

Spike: "I am if it's relevant to what's going on now."

Miranda: (smiling) "But that's everything, love. (He frowns) It means nothing to me now—it's simply Immortal fighting Immortal as it was meant to be, with a touch of politics thrown in for good measure."

His frown deepens. She is seriously covering something—from him? From herself? Why? She's never been bashful about her vengeful motives before. Spike contemplates these things, but decides not to pursue it. They stop for a drink in a pub and plan out their next move.

Flash forward to the confrontation between Miranda and Gerald. In a darkened alley, Spike is standing menacingly over a women tied to a chair and gagged. Miranda is facing off with Gerald, standing between him and the woman. Miranda has drawn her sword and is ready to fight. Gerald has not drawn his sword. He looks sad/concerned.

Gerald: "Okay. I'm here. What do you want?"

Miranda: "Funny, I thought it was rather obvious. What do you think, William?"

Spike: "Dark alley, swords, (smirking down at the girl in the chair) damsel in distress—I'd bet on a fight."

Miranda: "Exactly."

Gerald: "You've been busy, Miranda. I can feel it. And though it might actually be worth my while to kill you now, I do not wish to."

Miranda: "Isn't that too bad. You see, I've got my little heart set on taking your head tonight and I simply won't take no for an answer."

Gerald: "What do you want? Money, weapons? An alliance? I'm prepared to talk."

Miranda: "Again with the talking. (Shaking her head) What is it about me that makes people bang on and on..."

Gerald: "I know you're angry. I didn't understand then. (He looks over to the woman in the chair, who has tears streaming down her face) I do now."

Miranda: (Softens for a moment, but quickly shakes it off) "Oh right. Here we go then. You fell in love...blah blah blah...you've changed...blah blah blah...forgive me...don't kill me...boring boring _boring_. What you don't seem to understand is that it's completely irrelevant to me. All of it. You're an Immortal, I'm an Immortal; I don't like you, so we fight. Just because you're shagging a mortal doesn't change any of that. Draw your sword."

Gerald: "It doesn't have to be that way. You said so yourself all those years ago."

Miranda: (indignant laugh) "Bastard. Bringing up the past at a time like this is a very dangerous move. I'd watch it. What were your exact words? "You can't fight your nature, Miranda. You can mix with mortals as you wish, but just because you hide doesn't mean we'll go away."

Gerald: (Coming to terms with the fact that he can't talk himself out of this—perhaps starting to accept some responsibility for the past) "Do I have your word that she'll be safe, regardless of the outcome? Either way, that monster won't touch her?" (You can hear the love and concern in his voice when he says 'her'. The woman is shaking her head, as if to plead with him; her tears coming in deeper sobs.)

Miranda: (nods in agreement) "I have no quarrel with her. You're the mur...Immortal"

Gerald: "You can walk away from this, still. We can live our separate lives. I was wrong and I'm sorry." (He _is_ sincere, but isn't very convincing—he is capable only of telling the truth plainly, without added emotion.)

Miranda: (voice starting to seethe with anger) "Well then! Your sympathy card must've got lost in the mail—you know, the one apologizing for killing my only daughter in cold blood once you'd realized your mistake. So sorry about the misunderstanding. Let's call the whole thing off and live happily-fucking-ever-after."

Gerald: "It was wrong what I did. I won't argue that. But you did have a choice. Just like you have now."

Miranda: (the whites of her eyes flash as the anger wells up inside her) "A choice? You call that a choice?"

Gerald: "She needn't have died. We may have come to an agreement—an arrangement of some sort. It was your decision not to negotiate."

Miranda: (almost too angry to speak—she manages to hiss through clenched teeth:) "He was _dying_."

Gerald: "A fact that would not have changed whether or not you were by his side. And yet, you chose to let her die. Killing me won't take away your guilt."

Spike: "Don't listen to him, M. He's playing you."

But it's too late. His words have had their effect and a rage surges inside her, the likes of which she has never known. Watching her intently, Spike sees the rage build and take control. The look in her eyes is like nothing he's ever seen—not when she killed Dru, not when she fought Glory. This was an altogether other kind of darkness—wild and uncontrolled. He can't help thinking that he'd never met _this_ Miranda.

Miranda: (venomous) "My choice. My fault. My guilt. Guess I'll save you the trouble."

Gerald, expecting her to lunge at him, finally raises his sword in preparation. But instead, she turns around, covering the ground between her and the woman in an instant. She lifts her sword and plunges the blade through the woman's heart, killing her instantly. Miranda jerks out the blade and looks up to see Spike, whose face has an expression of complete and utter shock (and lack of recognition). In the background Gerald cries out and drops to his knees in despair. Still looking at Spike, Miranda suddenly appears to snap out of it, as if coming out of a trance, and a look of horror crosses her face as she brings her left hand up to her mouth and gasps at the realization of what she has done. Spike looks at her sympathetically and then looks past her towards Gerald, knowing what's coming next. Miranda follows his gaze and turns to see Gerald, still on his knees, head in his hands. She clutches her stomach in sympathy to his pain—but she can't bear to see it/him—a reminder of her atrocious act. She lunges toward him and in one quick, broad stroke ends it. Watching his body go limp, she whispers "No more pain". She drops her sword and starts to run off. Before she gets very far, the Quickening catches up with her and knocks her down. She stays down afterwards and Spike catches up with her. Not knowing what to say, he kneels down with her and gently strokes her hair.

Spike: "It's Ok."

Miranda: (looking at him, with tears in her eyes, shaking her head) "No. Not OK."

She gets up and starts to run again. After a distance she stops and is sick. When she's finished, she staggers off again. It is obvious she is heading in the direction of their hotel. Once they arrive, Miranda quickly locks herself in the bathroom. Spike can hear her sobs through the door. He paces outside the door, but decides to let her cry herself out for a bit. An hour passes.

Spike: (talking to the bathroom door) "M, we should pack our things and get out of here tonight. They'll find the bodies soon enough and might be able to trace you back here. We shouldn't take any chances" (No response. He tries again a bit later.) "Come on, love. Let's grab a train somewhere—we can talk about things once we're on the road."

Just then, the sound of sirens nearby. Spike decides to force his way into the bathroom (it isn't difficult). He finds Miranda sitting in the tub, hugging her knees to her chest. She has stopped crying, but has a faraway look. He grabs hold of her arm and lifts her up. Surprisingly (?) she doesn't fight it, but lets him lead her. They grab their things and leave. Spike leads them to a place where they can hop a freight train. They find an empty car and clamber in. Miranda resumes the position she had in the bathtub. Spike sits down, facing her. They sit in silence. Spike doesn't know what to say—he hadn't seen it coming, not really. He is not used to misreading people so completely. After a time, Miranda is the first to speak.

Miranda: (calm, pensive) "Do you understand guilt?

Spike: (Here we go. M and her questions.) "What, as a concept?"

Miranda: "The feel of it."

Spike: "Vaguely. Guess I just do what I do and that's that. Seems a waste of time to dwell on things you can't change."

Miranda: "If something were to happen—to Dawn, say, that you could have prevented, but didn't. Would you feel bad?"

Spike: "Yeah. Suppose I would. If I could've done something."

Miranda: "What if it was a girl like Dawn—a friend of hers, say, who was killed. Would you feel anything then?"

Spike: (Thinks about this for a moment) "If it would make her (Dawn) sad."

Miranda: "But you don't feel guilt for all the girls like Dawn you killed before the chip; girls who had sisters and friends who would feel pain at their loss?"

She isn't asking in a judgmental way—she's just trying to find the limits of his understanding.

Spike: "Guess I don't think about it." (He had never thought about it quite like that.)

Miranda: "But you can at least understand why it hurts me. That girl back there did nothing wrong but love an Immortal. It could've been Cal, or you. She had a family, friends. I can feel their loss. He loved her and I killed her in front of him—I remember that pain; I feel it now. What I did was worse than what he did to me. He's right. I did have a choice. Then and now. (tears start to flow) Can you understand?"

Spike: "I think so. I'll try. (frowning; confused) But why, then?"

Miranda: (getting more upset again) "I never meant to kill her. I said so, remember? We'd find another way if we had to. I...I felt this force inside me..and then it was as if I stepped outside of myself for a moment and watched it happen. (pause; in a whisper) I try to remember how to be me, but sometimes I forget."

Spike: (He puts his hand on her face and wipes away some of the tears) "Don't be so melodramatic, love. He touched a nerve and you lost it. Happens to the best of us. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Miranda: (desperation in her eyes) "It wasn't the first time—nothing this bad before, but...I'm afraid, William. I can't live like this—I can't be_ her_ (the person who did those things). Will you help me?"

Spike: "Help you what?"

Miranda: "Help me remember. Help me be who I was. Help me _not_ do things like that."

Spike: (shaking his head in disbelief. To clarify:) "You're asking a vampire to be your conscience. Do you realize how bloody ridiculous that is? "

Miranda: "Is it?"

Spike: (laughing at the prospect—absolute certainty) "Uh, yeah. Think wolves and hen houses; pagans and bible school. I'd of killed the girl as payback and you know it—'least you should know it, else we may have a problem. She meant nothing to me." (Thinks to himself: but what about that shop girl? Did she mean something to me?)

Miranda: "But I wouldn't have. You knew that before I told you just now. The way you looked at me back there—you knew that wasn't me. (He shrugs in agreement.) Something happened to me back in LA. Don't ask me to explain just yet. (She's suddenly more animated.) William, you know me better than anyone ever has. You know where my lines are. You see what happens to me when I cross them. Help me remember."

Spike: (skeptical) "I don't know."

Miranda: (convincing herself) "And you've spent enough time with the slayer and her group to know what's acceptable behavior in their eyes—just take two baby steps into the gray zone and you've got what's acceptable for me. Surely between the two of us, we can figure it out. (Noting his skeptical look) I'm just asking you to keep an eye out, is all."

Spike: "Seems an awful lot of thinking. (Weakening at her pleading eyes) Can't promise anything—it's not like I'm known for my forethought. But, eh...I'll give it a go—so long as you promise to stop blubbering all the time."

She gives him a quick smile and takes his hand and squeezes it. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and lights one for both of them.

Spike: "Thought it was all part of the act back there, until...The way you always talked about her (Isabella), or didn't, rather, I wouldn't've thought there was a nerve to touch."

Miranda: "I thought I'd tucked it away rather nicely. (beat) What kind of mother chooses the husband over the child? What kind of mother takes a gamble and calls the bluff? Surely not one who loved the child as her own—Surely not one who treasured it above all else in this world. All else. Surely not. (Shaking her head quickly) Enough of that rubbish. If we keep on like this, I'll turn back into that quivering heap of tears and mucous I was just a few hours ago."

Spike: "Nobody wants that. Tears are for hippies, ankle-biters and ninnies who watch Oprah."

Miranda: "Fuck the past. After all, tomorrow is another day (She takes a drag from her cigarette and leans back against the wall of the car.) Tell me a story."

Spike: "What kind of story, Scarlett?"

He thinks for a moment that he'd like to tell her about the girl in Edinburgh—the one who worked in the record shop down the street from their hotel. The one he'd saved from that vamp gang while Miranda was sleeping off the flight. Just like Miranda idn't know why she killed the Immortal's wife, he didn't know why he'd gone to such lengths to make sure the girl in the shop made it back to her flat safely. He'd wanted to mention it before—why hadn't he? Did he think she'd be jealous? He _had_ been chatting the girl up a bit, but it was just for a laugh. Was he afraid of sounding like a certain brooding help-the-bloody-fucking-helpless, self-righteous poof? Yeah, maybe that was it.

Miranda: "A scary one."

Spike: "All right, love. Have I told you about the catacombs outside of Odessa?"

…

Scene 3

Present Day

Clips from earlier: Spike: "All this time and I haven't asked. You asked me not to and I didn't. The nightmares. The changes. (pause) You're_ different_."

She closes her eyes more tightly, as if she could block out what's about to happen by the force of her will.

Spike: (return to a more serious tone) "And then there was that time in Glasgow."

The mere mention of this causes Miranda to shrink back into herself. Like a little girl, she rolls back over, away from him, pulling the sheet up tight around her, shutting her eyes tightly.

Miranda: (Without moving she whispers softly in as indifferent a voice as she can muster) "Do you not like me this way? Is that why..." (She feels as if a cold hand has wrapped itself around her heart. To lose his love along with everything else...BASTARDS.)

Spike: (He reaches over and gently turns her face towards his.) "It's not that, love. I don't mind—in some ways it's better. But I need to know. Is it all because of him?"

Miranda: (She nods her head gently.) "Yes"

Spike lets out a breath and clenches his teeth. He rolls away slightly and reaches over to turn the light back on. He sits up.

Spike: (forceful now) "I need to know everything. You promised to tell me and now I'm asking."

Miranda: (slight panic in her voice) "No, not now. Not tonight. Please. I can't. Not when we have to face them tomorrow."

Spike: "That's why it has to be tonight. Everything, love. I need to know every last bloody detail. I need to know more than he does. I'm right that there are things he doesn't know?"

Miranda: (she nods) "You won't like it—some of it you'll hate. (Looking at him desperately) Promise you won't leave me after."

Spike: (He considers it for just a moment—all the remembered pain comes flooding back. Defiantly.) "No."

Miranda: (This hits her like a kick to the stomach. She tries hard to steel herself; she rolls these words over in her mind—"I deserve this". She sits up, resigned.) "Where would you like me to begin?"

Spike: (His voice has a slightly bitter edge) "Let's start with a question, shall we? That day you left, six months ago. Did you know you wouldn't be back? Was that your intention? Because I've gone over that day and the night before a couple'a million times in my head and no matter how many times I play it over, I can't figure it."

Miranda: "I hadn't a clue—thought I'd be back within a fortnight at most."

Spike: (staring straight ahead--they're now sitting up in bed, side by side--he nods as an indication that he accepts her answer.) "Start from there."

Autbor's notes: As you remember from before, Miranda is called away to LA by Angel six months ago. I feel the need to spell out the situation there (at Angel Investigations), or at least the situation as I envisioned it at the time. This whole scenario was conceived back before I was disillusioned with Angel—during that brief time in Season 2 when I thought the show rivaled Buffy in its brilliance. This was a time when Wolfram & Hart was still scary (and a bit mysterious) and was the primary thorn in Angel's side. They had brought back Darla, who was seriously messing with his head. Lindsey (yay!) was in charge of the project and in "love" with Darla. So everything leading up to Angel sleeping with Darla is the same—his intense disillusionment, the rift in the group (his firing of everyone—everyone being only Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn), etc. Only instead of having an epiphany after waking up in bed next to Darla, soul intact, he is as confused as ever. He leaves in disgust, tries to put things right by inviting the 'gang' back to work, but can't seem to shake the Darla habit and finds himself seeing her in secret. He thinks he is just being weak, and worries that ultimately it will be his undoing/unsouling, BUT there is likely more to it than that—some sort of manipulation being worked by W&H in conjunction with Darla. C, G & W are suspicious that something is up (Angel hasn't told them anything about Darla) and so the mood is rather tense. 


	21. Chapter 21

Miranda: "You already know the first bit—things were exactly as I said on the phone those first few days. He hadn't told me anything before I left Sunnydale, so I had no idea what to expect. I arrived at the hotel Friday morning."

Scene: Six months ago. The lobby of the Hyperion. 9am. Miranda walks through the front door, carrying an over-the-shoulder overnight bag. She strolls through the lobby and plops her back on the sofa. Just then, Cordelia comes out of the back office to the front desk, carrying a cup of coffee.

Cordelia: (surprised, but sleepy) "oh. Miranda. I would seriously act more surprised and excited to see you, but I haven't had my coffee. Give me a minute and I'll see if I can muster something."

Miranda: "No need to muster—but I will take a cup of coffee if you've got some to spare. I parked my rental on the street outside—is that all right, or is there a lot somewhere?"

Cordelia: (waving it off, while she takes a deep drink from her mug) "That's fine. Traffic cops don't seem to make it to this neighborhood much."

She dives into the back room and comes back out with some coffee; she's looking more awake by the minute. She hands Miranda the mug and they drink in silence for a moment.

Miranda: "So, uh, how's business? Rather intense at the moment?"

Cordelia: "No, actually. More like eerily quiet."

Miranda: (confused) "Oh. I was under the impression..."

Cordelia: (suddenly a look like she's just figured something out; then conspiratorially) "Oh, yeah, right. Things are much too hot to handle ourselves." (wink, wink)

Miranda: (not quite getting it; confused frown; decides to change the subject) "So is he..."

Cordelia: "Not up yet. ("knowing" look—smiling) You can go on down and surprise him if you want—it's not like he locks the door or anything."

Miranda: (huh—decides to ignore the implication) "Do you have a phone book handy? I should look into booking a room somewhere."

Cordelia: (genuinely surprised) "Oh, I just assumed you'd be staying downstairs...(suspicious) or upstairs—we've got plenty of rooms, if you can handle the 70's-must-clash décor."

Miranda: (decides she should say something) "I'm thinking there must be some sort of misunderstanding..." (Cordy interrupts)

Cordelia: "Sure. I get it. It's a "business trip" (acts out the quotation marks)."

Miranda is about to say something when Angel appears—he must have heard them talking.

Angel: (sounding relieved) "Miranda—you made it."

He comes over and actually hugs her—she is a bit taken aback, but doesn't resist. Is that perfume she smells? Hm. Cordelia is watching them and beaming.

Miranda: (friendly, warm) "Hello, Angel"

Angel: (forgetting about Cordy for a minute) "You look—it's good to see you looking so...uh...not like you looked the last time I saw you."

Miranda: "I think there is a compliment in there somewhere." (Thinks to herself: wish I could say the same—he looks downright haggard and more than usual. What has he told them?)

Cordelia: (giving Angel a 'try harder—you're SUCH a loser' look) "Let me translate for Mcfly here: you look lovely. Ooh, is that a Gucci belt?—it totally sets off those shoes."

Angel: "That's pretty much what I meant. Well, except that last part. About the shoes. Not that they aren't nice, but I'm not one to...I mean, fashion's not exactly my thing."

Cordelia: (under her breath) "Yeah, good thing you cleared that up."

Angel: (to Cordy) "What was that?"

Cordelia: "Nothing. (suddenly thinking about something) So, what happened the last time that she looks so much better now?"

Angel: "uh...right...last time she was...um...(desperately trying to make something up—they're obviously under the impression that he's seen her more recently than the whole Glory incident)...not wearing any make-up. (?)"

Miranda and Cordy both give him a disbelieving look, like I can't _believe_ he said that.

Cordelia: (to Angel) "Oh my god, you are SO bad at this. (under her breath) Guess we've got nothing to worry about."

Miranda: (she decides to lie to see his reaction) "To be fair, I did have a touch of the flu."

Angel: "Yeah, she was kind of pale and pasty."

Miranda thinks: Ok, what sort of game are we playing here?

Cordelia: "Ok, Angel, enough talking. Just stand there and look..._tall_. I'll grab you some tea."

As Cordy leaves the room, Miranda shoots Angel a 'what's going on look', but before he has a chance to answer it, Cordy is back with the tea. He is able to whisper "Play along, I'll explain later. Please." Miranda gives him a slight frown and then a nod.

Cordelia: "So does this mean we're doing the ball thingy tonight? (to Angel) You are such a sly one, with your "we're not going to waste our time on another security gig", when all along, you were just importing a date. Oh, but you didn't leave me any time to shop."

Miranda: "Ball?"

Angel: "uh"

Wesley comes in.

Wesley: "So you decided to take my advice after all. Really, it's a bit of income and it'll be good for morale—things we all could use more of. Miranda, so glad you could come down."

Miranda: "Nice to see you again, Wesley. It would seem that Angel neglected to mention the 'ball' aspect of the job—I didn't bring anything formal."

Angel: "Oops, I guess we can't do it then. I'll just call them up and..."

Miranda: "Don't be ridiculous. I did bring a credit card and this is LA. Cordelia, let's go shopping, shall we? Don't bother with a purse—my treat. (to Angel) And I think you should go back to bed for a bit—you look dreadful."

Angel: (shrugs) "Didn't get much sleep last night."

He and Miranda exchange a look. She looks concerned, but snaps out of it quickly and goes into 'chirpy shopping mode'. She and Cordelia head out the door. Just before she reaches the exit, she turns back.

Miranda: (to Angel) "Should I get you something to wear?"

Angel: "I can probably piece something together."

Cordelia: (turning to Miranda) "Yeah, not so much. He tends to be off by a decade or so."

Miranda: "We'll find something"

Scene 4

Present. In the hotel room. She's continuing the story…

Miranda: "A few minutes alone with Cordelia and it became quite apparent that he had intentionally led them all to believe that he and I had been...well...let's just say, sneaking around. How they figured this would work with my living in Sunnydale and him in L.A. was not clear, but obviously he was using me as a cover for something. The way Cordelia went on about it—how it was just the perfect thing for him—she was downright giddy in her acceptance of us as a potential 'couple'—I gathered he had been acting odd for quite some time and they were worried about him. I was able to discern quite a lot from Cordelia—his behavior must have fit quite neatly with someone who was sneaking around with the girlfriend of someone who he despised. They probably thought it quite right for him to be acting strange—him being drawn to someone who was willing to see him, but not break the ties to his enemy whom she was still sleeping with. Whatever it was he was covering had caused him to be guilty, conflicted, inexplicably absent and more broody than usual—and there must have been a hint of a woman, else why would they be so willing to accept his explanation? I'll admit that I was rather naughty during that day of shopping—making up all sorts of things to tell Cordelia. He asked me to play along and boy did I—figured it served him right for using me in that way. It was hilarious, really—poor girl believed every word. Anyway, the shopping took all day and by dusk, I still hadn't been able to speak with Angel alone to hear his side of things—for reasons I can't remember, we ended up having to meet him at the party hall and so I had an hour to kill before the party. That's when I called you the first time."

Past. Hotel room at the Hyperion. Miranda is sitting on the bed in a bra and slip, making a call on her cell phone. We hear both sides of the conversation:

Ring ring ring.

Spike: (Spike's voice on the other end, sounding annoyed) "Yeah"

Miranda: (playful) "Is that the way you always answer my phone? S'no wonder no one ever leaves a message."

Spike: (now pleased, because it's Miranda) "So it's _your _phone now, is it? Bloody thing's been ringing off the hook since you left—birds just dying to get a piece of me now that you're out of the picture for a few days."

Miranda: "Hm, is that so? Well, then I'm glad you answer it the way you do—don't want to give them any ideas."

Spike: (confessing) "eh, telemarketers mostly. Too bad you can't project evil over the phone. I've tried roaring at them but they just keep on talking. Only reason I answer the thing is in case it's you."

Miranda: "And here I am. (hearing a straw sucking noise) What are you doing?"

Spike: "Having a Miranda slushy"

Miranda: "A what?"

Spike: "Had a bit of an incident with the microwave this morning, so I had to get creative. Bit of ice, couple'a strawberries, bag of your finest, blender and bob's yer uncle, a Miranda slushy."

Miranda: "How very California of you. Hm." (She leans her head back against the headboard and moves her hand across the side of her neck.)

Spike: (guessing what she's thinking by the sound of her 'hm') "Yeah, wish you were here to heat it for me."

Miranda: (trying to not think about it) "So what have you been up to without me? Been strutting around the house naked, watching porn all day?"

Spike: (laughs) "But that's what I do when you're here, love. Shockingly, I'm fully clothed—socks and everything."

Miranda: (frowning) "That's rather disappointing. (getting an idea) Since I can't actually see you, I've decided to go on picturing you naked on the couch, if that's alright."

Spike: "S'your imagination, pet. Maybe you should include yourself, while you're at it. If I close my eyes, I can definitely think of some naughty things we could be getting up to right about now. Oh, and for future reference, I _always_ picture you naked."

Miranda: "God, I'd love to continue that line of thinking, but I'm afraid we'll have to postpone 'till a bit later—I'm not exactly in an entirely private space at the moment. You going out?"

Spike: "Thought I'd try to find a poker game or something later."

Miranda: Oooh, don't forget to keep an eye out for an orange tabby."

Spike: (rolling his eyes a bit) "I never said I'd share a house with a cat—don't get along well, cats and vampires."

Miranda: (pouty voice) "But all creepy old houses have to have at least one cat—I'm sure it's written in stone somewhere. Besides, cats love me and I want one to keep my feet warm at night."

Spike: "I'll mull it over."

Miranda: (smiling; then a bit more serious) "How are you feeling?"

Spike: "I'm OK. Still not quite up for kicking the slayer's ass, but uh..."

Miranda: "Spike, you c..."

Spike: "Don't say it."

Miranda: (smirking) "Well, whose ass could you kick?"

Spike: "Uh, I'm pretty sure I could kick Xander's ass."

Miranda: "Good lord, you really aren't feeling great, are you? Take care of yourself. Don't be picking any fights at the club."

Spike: "I may still be weak, but I'm not stupid, which puts me ahead of 99 of the demons in this town. Don't worry so much."

Miranda: (changing the subject) "So what are you going to do until later?"

Spike: "eh. Watch TV—there's a Xena marathon that's just started. You ever watch that?"

Miranda: (shaking her head) "I'm surprised you haven't figured out by now that I pretty much watch anything that has sword play of any kind—movies, television—if there's someone wielding a sword at some point, I've seen it. In fact, I was so blown away the first time I saw an episode of Xena, that I nearly packed my bags and headed to New Zealand—I mean, a woman sword fighter. ON TELEVISION. God, I've never even seen another Immortal woman fight. I seriously considered just showing up on the set to help choreograph the fight scenes. But, then I decided to move to Sunnydale and do the antiques thing (sigh)."

Spike: "So the short answer would be 'yes', then"

Miranda: "ooh, but why don't you tape it for me—I've missed most of it."

Spike: (obviously watching it on TV right now) "Please tell me the sidekick is temporary—god, I've watched 10 minutes and I want to run her through."

Miranda: "She gets better. At least her outfit gets skimpier."

Spike: "I think you should fight in a leather miniskirt and metal bra—_that_ I would like to see."

Miranda: "Tell you what. You make the effort to tape the marathon and I'll have a little outfit made up."

Spike: (pictures it for a moment) "Where are the tapes?"

Miranda: "On the shelves in the cabinet. (beat) So, who's Darla?"

Spike: (you can hear him searching for the tapes) "What?"

Miranda: "Darla. Cordelia let something slip when we were shopping today, but then quickly covered."

Spike: "Shopping? Thought you went to LA to rescue dumbass-in-distress, not to cavort with his mouseketeers."

Miranda: "That was the plan, but as it happens, things are a little less straightforward than I was expecting—he's keeping things from them and so far, 'them' is my only source of information. So do you know who this Darla is?"

Spike: "Uh, yeah. Spent more time than I'd care to admit with her over the past century. She sired Angel, Angel sired Dru, Dru sired me—so I suppose you could call her my great gran. Quite a piece of work, that one."

Miranda: "What, so you all hung 'round together?"

Spike: "For a bit, yeah. Up until Angelus became a big pansy and took off—then we went our separate ways. Well, 'cept for me 'n Dru."

Miranda: "Huh. So were Darla and Angel...like you and Dru?"

Spike: "More or less—but they had an odd sort of relationship. Very much a love-hate thing, if you could even use a word like 'love' to describe their sort. But they were always together—long before I arrived on the scene and before Dru, too and then after 'till he got cursed."

Miranda: (smiling & crinkling her nose) "Hm. So, did the four of you have like orgies and stuff, when you weren't off terrorizing Europe?"

Spike: "Bite your tongue, naughty girl. Is your mind always in the gutter? Hated the bastard almost as much back then as I do now. But, you know, we _were_ family."

Miranda: "What happened to her?"

Spike: "Rumor has it, Angel staked her himself—so much for eternal love and all that."

Miranda: "But she's not dead—I'm quite sure Cordelia used the present tense."

Spike: "News to me—that would be quite a trick."

Miranda: "Well, regardless, she would certainly have the power to mess with his head if she is around."

Spike: (a bit whiney) "Whatever. Just figure it out and come home. I'm bored."

Miranda: "I'll do my best. I have to go now, love, but there is one more thing. On the off chance that one of the, uh, mouseketeers, as you called them, happens to chat with one of the scoobies, you should know that they are under the impression that I'm having an affair with Angel. (to herself) What a ridiculous sounding sentence—how old are we?"

Spike: "WHAT? Why the hell would the bastards think that?"

Miranda: "I'm pretty sure that's what Angel told them—or at least led them to believe."

Spike: "I'm gonna kill him. Seriously. I'm hanging up the phone, getting in the car and coming down there to kickhisass."

Miranda: "Keep your pants on. It's not that big a deal—once I've figured this out, I'll set everything straight. And besides, as you've already admitted, you're not exactly up for kicking anyone's ass."

Spike: "Fine. Just get it done—fight whoever you have to fight and take off. You don't owe him more than that."

Miranda: "If it were as simple as fighting someone, he probably would've just called Buffy. There's something deeper gong on."

Spike: "Okay, then play mental games with whoever you need to play mental games with and be done with it."

Miranda: "Don't worry—I'll only do what I have to and that'll be that. I'll be home before you know it."

Spike: (bitter/grumpy) "I already know it."

Miranda: "I'll call you later, alright? I love you."

Spike: (softening) "Yeah, me too."

They hang up.

(Author's note: I just realized the continuity error here—I forgot that in Crush, Dru told Spike about Darla. Oops. Um, yeah.)


	22. Chapter 22

Authors note: I'm going to have to cheat a bit here—I'm being selfish in that the next bit was all very detailed, complicated and drawn out in my head when I conceived it, but now I just don't want to waste time developing it because there are more interesting bits I want to get to. So I fear you may read the next couple of pages and have a "Ok, so magic is heroine and Willow is an addict—WTF?" moment, i.e., in trying to save time, I'm going to force the story in a particular direction without fully fleshing out the progression enough for you to really BELIEVE/FEEL it—trust me in that it made perfect sense to me, considering all the stuff that I am about to skim over. So, uh. Yeah.

Present

Miranda: "I did finally get to talk with Angel alone that night, after the ball. He gave me the basic gist of what had been going on. Things were bad on any number of levels. They'd (Angel Investigations) been stretched to the limit trying to do their job, but everywhere they turned was this organization of lawyers called Wolfram & Hart. This group seemed to represent every thug and demon Angel Investigations was trying to protect people from—their resources were limitless. After a few nasty interactions, the lawyers seemed rather hell bent on destroying Angel, or more specifically getting rid of his soul. Their latest attempt involved bringing back Darla and this is where the tide seemed to be turning in their favor. At first Darla came to him in his dreams—reminding him of their past life. It was intoxicating for him. He was able to push it out of his mind for a time, but then came the day when everything was cold and horrible and hopeless. He'd sought her out, thinking it would be the end. But it wasn't and this confused him more. He tried to go back to the way things were—he tried to fool his friends, his coworkers as best he could. He thought maybe that if he pretended well enough that it would sink in and be true. Someday. But he kept seeing her—it was the only time he could forget for just a moment how bad things were—how he was failing. Every night, he'd swear would be the last, but then he'd find himself walking out the door. His weakness made him hate himself even more and he felt trapped in a cycle that could only lead to one place. Talking with him that night convinced me that he was nearly broken—I've been there and I know what it looks like. He didn't say it, but I could hear his desire to surrender—his desire for the familiar, the simple. He had decided to call me in desperation one night when he'd got back to the hotel after sneaking a few hours with her. I guess he thought I might understand—at least he knew I wouldn't judge. The others wouldn't get it. Immortals get so tired of change—it seems to happen so quickly, so completely. The desire for continuity can be overpowering. More than anything, I think he simply wanted someone to confess to. I agreed to help him as best I could.

First imperative seemed to be to stop seeing Darla. We agreed that perhaps if he had a break from that, his head might begin to clear. So those first few nights, I promised to not let him out of my sight. In addition, I suggested we do a bit more investigating of W&H to see whether they might be messing with his mind somehow—some mystical drug or other to weaken his resolve. Conveniently, I happened to be a client of theirs, so I suggested I make an appointment for some made-up reason to get me in the building to poke around. Incidentally, Angel's colleagues were most disturbed by the fact that I had worked with W&H for years—I told them that most Immortals dealt with them, as we have rather unique financial needs. Anyway, I scheduled an appointment and went in a couple of days later, for the purpose of getting official documents created for my vampire boyfriend—driver's license, passport, social security card. Seemed a perfect ruse—luckily, I'd brought a picture of you to give them—it wasn't exactly the right sort, but good enough. They bought the whole thing and I was able to get a bit of information before being discovered—at the very least, I found out where I needed to get the particular information we were after. It would take them a few days to come up with the documents, so I would drop back in to pick up and approve of everything, hence giving me another opportunity to get the rest of the files. Everything was going according to plan. We told Wes, Gunn and Cordy only what they needed to know and continued to act as if we were romantically involved. Angel is the worst actor _ever_ though, so I'm not sure how convincing we were in truth. Lucky for us, they seemed primed to believe it.

Over the course of the next few days, I came to realize that Angel's problem ran much deeper than his desire for Darla. Yes, I had suspected that before, but the depths of his despair and self-loathing were frightening. It was quickly becoming apparent that my stopping him from seeing Darla was only a temporary fix—He had to have the strength to reject her himself, for anything resembling a permanent solution. I spoke with Wesley about Angel—I wanted to know what the real danger was if he, indeed, reverted to his former, soul-less self. You can probably guess how that went. Between the triumph of Wolfram & Hart and their using Angelus for whatever it was they had in mind—likely something resembling an end-of-the-world scenario—and his personal vendettas against the people closest to him, I quickly saw that Angel's tenuous grip on his soul was anything but a trivial, or even personal issue. It simply couldn't happen.

As we waited for my next opportunity to visit W&H, I went along with the rest of them as they worked various 'cases', if you can call them that. We were actually rather busy, which was probably a good thing. During this time, I observed Angel carefully. His moods, his reactions to things—the way he interacted with the others—the way he watched me. Even then, it wasn't me who he saw—not really. We talked—I did my best to cheer him, but he kept me at just enough distance to prevent my words from penetrating to any depth. He was keenly aware that I was there as a favor to him. I was temporary. I started to doubt that W&H were drugging him at all. They knew exactly what buttons to press and consequently were able to shake the very foundations of his beliefs.

One night, a couple of days before my meeting at W&H, we were hanging about the hotel after doing a bit of demon exterminating earlier for yet another client who couldn't pay. Everyone else had left for home and I was having a drink—something I hadn't done since I'd arrived and it was a brilliant relief. Angel joined me, which was probably a mistake. After he'd had a few sips, he started asking when I was leaving. I told him I didn't know—I'd stay as long as he needed me to. I don't think that was what he wanted to hear. He started to look agitated, and then I could tell he was attempting to cover it. He suggested I go to bed—he wanted to do some reading, so he'd stay up here. We'd been here before. Previously, I'd found a way to talk him around in circles until the feeling had passed. This time I walked over to him and slapped him hard across the face. It was that moment—the way he looked at me after I'd hit him. He understood that I knew what he wanted to do and that I wouldn't let him. That look. It distilled everything. I was hit with a flood of images and memories—the sound of Angel's voice on the phone that night; the urgency in Cordelia's grasping at the prospect of our relationship, Wesley's tales of Angelus, the words of that crazy old priest in Sunnydale—the pictures he'd drawn, and my own words about men "It was too easy". I knew what I was supposed to do—what I had to do. I felt sick. But in that moment, I could see how it could be done. I was a master at this. It was a game I had played almost my entire life and though more complicated this time, the path was clear to me. God, I was so angry at that moment because I knew it would work."

Spike: (interrupting her) "That when you first decided to stay?

Miranda: "Decided, no. There was still a chance that it could be temporary—It all depended on him."

Spike: "Must be about the time your phone calls started to drop off. I remember."

Scene 5

Flashback (Spike's memory)—Meanwhile in Sunnydale...

The Bronze. Almost a week after the first phone call. Anya, Buffy, Willow and Tara walk in. They're scanning the place for a minute, looking for a place to sit. Anya is focused more on the crowd than on available seats.

Buffy: (to Anya; slightly irritated) "Xander said he'd meet us here around midnight and it's 10:30—I don't think he would've beat us here."

Anya: (ignoring Buffy's comment) "Have any of you seen Miranda lately? I wanted her to take me shopping tomorrow, but her shop has been closed all week. She left a message with Xander saying I didn't need to come into work, but like a typical man, he didn't think to ask why."

Willow: "That's the first time I've heard you refer to Xander as 'typical'—definite progress."

Anya: (focused) "Fine, whatever, but have you seen Miranda?"

Buffy: "Nope. Even missed her weekly dinner-and-a-movie with Dawn on Wednesday."

Tara: "Isn't that Spike over there on the couch?"

Willow: (looking over in that direction) "huh. I can only see the back of his head."

Buffy: "With captain peroxide, that's all you need."

Willow: "True."

Anya is already on the move, heading over there.

Buffy: "Wait, Anya, do we really need to...(She's already gone. Continuing in a meek voice)...go over there?" (Buffy and the others reluctantly follow)

We see Spike sitting on the couch, beer in hand, leaning back so that the back of his head is resting on the back of the couch—he looks exhausted.

Anya: (frowning when she doesn't find Miranda on the couch next to him) "Where's Miranda?"

Spike: (wearily looking over at her) "I'm just fine, Anya, how are you? Sure, you can buy me another drink."

Anya: (correcting herself) "Hello Spike. (with a forced wave) Where's Miranda?"

Spike: "Away. Business trip. (The rest of them have caught up) Oh brilliant—it's the lot of you."

Anya: "Well, when will she be back?" (Just then the waitress/bartender comes over to deliver another beer for Spike. Spike gives Anya an expectant look, as though he's holding out information.) Fine." (She pulls out her wallet and pays for the beer.)

Waitress: (Turning to the women) "What can I get you ladies?"

Buffy: "Oh, we're not staying. Here. In this spot."

Anya: "I'll have a Cosmopolitan."

She sits in a chair that's kitty corner to the couch. Seeing her sit, Buffy gives Anya an annoyed look. Willow just shrugs and moves to sit down. Resigned, Buffy looks around in frustration and begrudgingly takes a seat. They all order something.

Spike: (He's maybe a touch tipsy/tired/lonely. Looking around.) "It's getting to be a party."

Anya: "Well?"

Spike: "oh, right. Don't know. A few days, probably." (Anya frowns at this, then actually looks at Spike for a moment)

Anya: "You look terrible—is it possible to look dead-_er_?

Willow: "'more dead'. I don't think 'dead-er' is a word"

Buffy: "Really? Dead-er. More dead. Yeah, guess your right. Not that grammar's ever stopped us before."

Willow: "But getting back to the original question, can someone look more dead?"

They think about this for a moment.

Tara: "Well, people can look more alive, can't they? Like when they're really happy."

Willow: "Yeah, like when they're in love or..."

Anya: "If they inherited lots of money."

Willow: (smiling at her logic) "Exactly, so if people can look more alive, then I definitely think they can look more dead."

Anya: "And Spike's not even 'people', so he can definitely look 'more dead'."

Spike: (Assuming they're just giving him a hard time for being a leech) "Fine, I'll buy the next round."

Buffy: "No, really, you look like death-on-a-cracker."

Willow: "Now where did that phrase come from? I mean, whenever I hear it, I get this image of the skeleton-guy in the black robe with the sickle, sitting on a giant saltine."

Spike: "A few more minutes listening to this and you'll have me wishing I were 'more dead'—this what you lot consider a conversation?"

Willow: "You're awful cranky."

Anya: "Must be the lack of sex."

Spike: "Yeah, because usually I just sit here and giggle like a schoolboy when you insult me. I'm just tired is all—haven't slept a wink for days."

Buffy: (laughing it off) "Noisy neighbors? It's the birds isn't it? Springtime can be a bitch—all that chirping and singing."

Tara: "Ear plugs?"

Spike: "It's not that."

Buffy: "Have you tried counting sheep? Or maybe _eating_ sheep in your case."

Willow: "Or warm milk—do you even drink milk?"

Spike looks mildly irritated and just shakes his head. He's desperate for sleep, so he pays attention.

Anya: (more serious than the others) "I can't sleep when Xander's away either."

Spike: (a bit hopeful) "Yeah?"

Anya: "He sleeps like a baby, but I just lay there, worrying about him being swept up in a tornado or swallowed by an earthquake or getting burned up in the lava from a volcano."

Buffy: "Sounds like you've been watching _far_ too many disaster flicks."

Anya: (big sigh) "They're his favorite."

Spike: (shaking his head) "It's just so bloody quiet. When we were first together, I couldn't believe the racket—what with the breathing and the heartbeat—thought I'd never get used to it. She's a bit of a cuddler, too. Used to put a pillow over my head in the beginning trying to drown out the sound so I could get to sleep. You have no idea—s'not the blood lust that keeps vampires and humans from hooking up—it's the bloody noise. But then I stopped noticing. Don't know when—just didn't need the pillow anymore. (brief pause) Now I think I can't sleep without it." (shakes his head in disgust/frustration)

Anya: "Ah, so maybe you just need to pay someone who's alive to sleep with you while Miranda's away."

Buffy: "Somehow I don't think Miranda would be lovin' that plan."

Spike: "I'm not going to _pay_ anyone. Besides, I wouldn't want there to be talking of any kind. Girls always want to chat."

(Eye roll from Buffy.)

Tara: "Get a wind-up clock."

Spike: "What?"

Tara: (explaining) "If you get a kitten and it's a bit too young, it'll sometimes just cry and cry and never relax enough to get to sleep. They tell you to wrap a small clock in a blanket and put it next to them—they think it's their mother's heartbeat and they instantly calm down."

Spike: (interested) "That really work?"

Tara: (she just shrugs.) "so they say"

Spike: (genuine) "thanks"

Skip ahead to later that night. Spike is coming in the front door of the house—it's about 3am. Once inside, he plops a bag of groceries on the counter and fishes around in the large pocket of his coat for something.

Spike: "Why mess with a clock when you can kill two birds with one stone and still have a real heartbeat? (laughs to himself) So to speak."

He pulls out a kitten—an orange tabby (maybe 10 weeks). He's holding it behind its front legs, letting the back legs dangle. He turns it around so he's looking at its face.

Spike: "Here's the deal, cat. I'm not much for your kind. And, I had to risk my hide cheating ol' Smiley at the club tonight to get my hands on you. I expect you to earn your keep. (it mews at him) Good. We understand each other, then." (He roughly plops it on the kitchen counter and pulls out some food dishes and food from the bag. It just sits and watches him pour the food and water into bowls. When he's done, Spike looks at the kitten.) "Go on then. Eat up. I'll probably just snack on you in the morning anyway." (It mews at him again. He frowns back at it.)

Skip ahead. Spike carries the kitten down to the bedroom, plops it on the pillow and gets into bed.

Spike: "Now you're going to sit there and breathe and your little heart is going to beat until I get to sleep, OK? Then you can do whatever you want. (pause) Within reason."

He turns out the light and lays on his back—his head on the pillow next to the one with the kitten. The kitten is just sitting there, NOT sleeping. It walks around a little, then sits back down, staring at Spike. After a few minutes, Spike opens his eyes in frustration and turns to face the kitten.

Spike: "What? Don't expect me to stroke you, 'cause I won't. (It mews and you can tell my looking at its little ears that it's shivering—Spike notices this) Aw, not you too? (deep, annoyed sigh) Fine. (mumbled cursing as he gets up and fishes around for something. Skip forward a few minutes. We see the kitten curled up and sleeping on the pillow, which is now covered with one of those small electric heating pads. Spike's head is a couple of inches away.) That's better. (sleepy voice) Was going to say the purring's a bit above-and-beyond, but, uh,..." (and he's fast asleep)

End flashback

Scene 6

Back to the present: Miranda is continuing the story.

Miranda: "He was the first to speak—only a few seconds had past. His voice was full of defeat "You can't stop me. If I want to walk out that door, I will. I don't think it matters anymore. (then a bit softer) You can't stop me." He said this not as a challenge or with even a hint of defiance—he was simply stating what he took to be the truth of the situation. I paused for a moment and replied "No I can't. Not ultimately. But tonight I can and I will. We'll see about tomorrow."

Spike: (interrupting again, impatient) "So what, you decided to seduce him?—That's fucking original, innit? Aren't you being just a bit melodramatic when it sounds like your big plan was to hope you could out-fuck Darla long enough to break the bloody spell or whatever—mind you, that'd be quite a task as I know from experience that she's got some serious skills."

He threw that last bit in just to sting her and she knows it.

Miranda: "This would be a lot easier if you'd stop interrupting."

Spike: (bitter) "Easier for me or for you? 'Cause I don't..." (His voice trails off as he thinks twice about what he's about to say and takes deep breath instead to calm himself) Why didn't you just say you'd off her? Seems the simplest solution."

Miranda: "I do still have a policy about that—killing girlfriends and such. More importantly, it wouldn't've solved the bigger issues."

Spike: (deeply sarcastic) "But surely _fucking_ would."

Miranda: (cold) "It wasn't about seduction. Seduction's nothing—child's play. The flick of an eye, the flash of a knee, a coy smile at just the right moment—it's no great skill to know how to make a man want you. It must be like you preying on a street-walker or a bum—where's the challenge? One thing I learned in my courtesan days is that seduction is merely the beginning—to be truly successful you had to make men want to possess you, or better yet, to love you. And to do that, you had to learn to be just exactly who they wanted you to be. I didn't sleep with Angel that night. He wasn't looking for someone to fuck. He already had that, didn't he? He wasn't looking for someone to love, either—that obviously hadn't worked out well for him in the past. He certainly didn't want anyone's charity. What he needed was someone to save—someone to rescue. So that night, I started carefully laying the groundwork—planting the seeds. All in preparation for just the right moment when I would make my play. I would only be convincing him of things he'd already imagined—that I'd woken up one day and realized that I was headed down the wrong path—I'd done some things that I wasn't proud of and needed to make amends. That being with you was making me dangerous and that I was afraid of what I would become if I stayed. I would show him my tattoos—he'd notice that three were very recent. Maybe I'd even tell him the details of it. I'd convince him that although I appeared strong, that I had many moments of weakness and fear, just like him. I'd thought I wasn't strong enough to make a break from my life, but being with him these past days had made me think it was possible. Maybe together...maybe the two of us...and so on. In the end, I'd be asking for his help. I knew it would work. What I wasn't so sure of was how important the idea of being with me was to him—to what extent the prospect of love was a necessary part of the deal. At the very least, the idea that I wanted to be with him might be just the touch to relieve him of any remaining skepticism. This, I would play by ear. The moment came the next night. He was going on about my meeting with W&H the next day—what if I didn't find anything—what if it was all just in his head. What would happen when I was gone? I suggested "What if I stayed?" To which he replied "What, and keep pretending to be my girlfriend? I appreciate the thought, but you've got your own life and..." "What if we weren't pretending?" "What?" I looked him straight in the eye and restated very clearly "What if I wasn't pretending?" At that point, things could have gone either way. I could have steered it in the direction of coming clean with the others (about our non relationship), but my staying on as part of the group and his friend for the reasons I was about to lay out. But I'd seen that look before—friendship wouldn't be enough. It's amazing what you can tell from a single unguarded look. Fine. I was prepared. So I was off—the Big Play. I was fucking brilliant—best performance of my life. Suddenly I was bloody Richard III. Contrary to popular opinion, Angel is not a stupid man. It took some convincing—he was rightly skeptical. But by the end of that night, after hours of talking and silence and one wickedly manipulative kiss, it was a done deal."

Spike: "So I was right all along, then. Does he know? That you played him?"

Miranda: "No. I suppose he must have suspected, but it was never discussed. You're the only one who knows." (Well, except for Father Dunn, but he's dead, so what does it matter?)

Spike: "get on with it"

Miranda: "Things got quite hectic after that. I overslept and just made it out the door in time to get to my meeting at W&H. I picked up my things from one of the company hacks and then asked if I could pay a visit to a lawyer at the firm called Lindsey, who I'd dealt with for years back before he'd climbed the corporate latter. I'd found out before that he was involved with the Darla plot to get to Angel and so I wanted to have a few minutes in his office. We'd always hit it off, so I knew he'd agree to see me. I had arranged to have him called away when I was with him and everything went as planned. I was able to get access to some pertinent files on his computer in his absence. Just as I'd finished snooping around, a woman appeared in his office looking for him—blonde, stunning, with a wonderfully acid tongue. We were in there together for just a minute before Lindsey returned—he seemed rather disconcerted to see her and hastily escorted her into a side room. He apologized and I took my leave. On my way out the door, I heard him talk to the woman and it suddenly occurred to me that it must have been Darla. On my way back to the hotel, I was struck with a rather disconcerting thought. When I got there, I pulled Cordelia aside."

Begin flashback

Miranda: "So you know how Angel is always complaining about the smell of the floor cleaner? Is that an Angel thing, or a vampire thing?"

Cordelia: "Uh, I don't usually take the time to ask random vampires if they're fond of the lemony fresh pine-sol scent when they make it in the building—usually grabbing for the crossbow."

Miranda: "No, I mean none of the rest of us can even smell it and yet it keeps him up at night—is the supersensitivity just one of his personal quirks?"

Cordelia: "Oh, that. I'm surprised you have to ask—haven't you been cohabiting with the undead?"

Miranda: (defensive) "Well, I guess I never really thought about it much—not enough to ask. We're both English, after all."

Cordelia: "Definitely a vampire thing."

Angel: (walking into the room) "What's a vampire thing?"

Cordelia: "Your nose" (feeling his nose & looking confused) "No, the whole 'I can tell if you've cut yourself shaving when you're still three blocks away' thing that you do."

Angel: "Oh, yeah—pretty standard."

Miranda: (looking a bit pale) "Does it mostly apply to blood?"

Angel: "Nah, most things. Like I can tell that Cordy made out with a guy who smokes last night."

Cordelia: "I don't think so. I would so never kiss a smoker. So gross. (gets a look from Miranda) Oh, right. You smoke, don't you? Yeah, I would never kiss you."

Angel: "He smokes."

Cordelia: "Dammit" (She searches through her purse and pulls out a little piece of paper with a phone number on it and rips it up)

Miranda: "We may have a problem."

Angel: "What's up?"

Miranda: "I was in a rush this morning—overslept a bit. So I just threw on some clothes and went out the door to get to W&H in time for my meeting."

Cordelia: "And you're worried that your BO left a bad impression on the evil-lawyer guys? Trust me if cleanliness and godliness go together, then BO is unlikely to set off the non-evil alarms at W&H."

Miranda: "I saw Darla. She came into Lindsey's office when I was there."

Angel: (not getting it) "You think she recognized you?"

Miranda: "From where? We've never met. Angel, what do I smell like right now?"

Angel: (He inhales slightly, starts to smile and then quickly frowns.) "Oh."

Cordelia: "What?"

Miranda: "How specific are we talking here? That we've been in the same room together—we've hugged?...kissed...?"

Angel: "I think we may have a problem."

Miranda: "Yeah."

Cordelia: (getting it) "Wow, you guys are just pulling out all the stops. I've got a newsflash for you—we all know you two aren't getting' it on. It's Ok."

Miranda: (ignoring her) "Oh god. If she tells Lindsey and he is suspicious, he'll be able to tell that I was on his computer. And if he thinks we're working together...(getting slightly panicked) Angel, they have access to everything of mine. Bank accounts, the deed to my house, the rental agreement for my shop. They could take everything."

She's suddenly struck by her lack of preparation—she should have thought of this.

Cordelia: "Hello, you're starting to freak me out here. Jig—totally up. No need for the big performance."

Angel: (ignoring Cordy) "She might not have been paying attention—these things do take a bit of focus. And even if she noticed, she might not tell Lindsey—seems like lately she's been on the outs with W&H anyway. Besides, it's only money, right?"

Cordelia: (under her breath) "Spoken like someone who's never had it."

Angel: (continuing the thought) "Part of what you're leaving behind?"

Miranda: (working herself into a slight frenzy.) "They deal with other Immortals—they know where to find them."

Cordelia: "Listen, we've all talked about it—there was a meeting. We agreed that there is just no way two people could be LESS of a real couple than the two of you, I mean..." (She's talking, but neither of them are listening.)

Angel: (walking over to Miranda and gently putting a hand on her shoulder) "It'll be Ok. We'll figure something out. It would've happened sooner or later. (She's obviously upset—this is all happening too soon. She thought she'd have more time to settle into this—to plan, to work things out and protect her assets. She decides not to hide her feelings, as it puts the focus on her again and her need for support. Responding to her look, Angel pulls her into a gentle hug and then kisses her on the forehead) We need a bit of damage control is all—something to buy us some time."

Cordelia: (watching them and finishing her thought) "...there's obviously no chemistry whatsoever. (Getting confused by their sudden intimacy & frowning) Ok, maybe some, but..."

Miranda takes a deep breath and steps back, ending the hug. Angel keeps hold of her hand.

Angel: (finally acknowledging Cordy) "What was that about a jig?"

Cordelia: "Nothing. I really need to talk to Wesley."

Miranda: "Right. First thing is to find out if Lindsey knows." She pulls out her cell phone and a card from her pocket—she dials and gets voice mail. "Lindsey. Miranda here. I was on my way home and discovered with horror that I'd lost an earring. Would you be a dear and have a look 'round your office for it? (She pulls out one of the earrings she's wearing and looks at it) It's a gold drop with a small diamond at the tip. Give me a ring on my cell if you find it. I wouldn't bother you, but it's got sentimental value." (She puts away the phone.)

Angel: "But you didn't lose an earring."

Cordelia: (smiling) "Ah, the earring trick. Staple of desperation dating—nothing_ I_ would ever sink to. You leave a message and if he calls back to say he thinks he may have found it, he's interested."

Miranda: "So if Lindsey calls and says he has the earring, we'll know that he knows something is up. Now we wait."

Angel: "You should book a room somewhere—one of the downtown hotels."

Miranda: "Yes. And I should bring a few things there to make it look lived in. I still have some friends at the Plaza who could fudge the check-in date. Cordy, do you have a local bank account?"

Cordelia: "Just barely—Bank of L.A. Why?"

Miranda: "Grab your ID and deposit slips—you're about to become a kept woman. (turning to Angel) We may be gone a while—I'll let you know if I hear from Lindsey."

She and Cordelia hastily head out the door.

Writer's note: this was kind of a cute little scene, but I'm going to skip it to save time. Basically, Miranda and Cordelia go to the bank and Miranda has to convince the bank manager to allow the transfer of $1 million from Miranda's account to Cordelia's account at another bank. It's only a fraction of what she has, but a transfer much larger would be deemed suspicious—in fact, even a million requires approval and the manager needs to be convinced that everything is on the up and up. Normally, it wouldn't be so much of a big deal, but Miranda insists that the transaction must be completed by the close of business. So they come up with an elaborate story and it works. Then they go to the hotel and book a room—they decide that Cordelia should stay there, at least until they're sure that W&H either know everything already or aren't suspicious. Cordelia is, of course, all smiles about all of it. Miranda tells her she can spend the interest while the money is in her account. They return to the hotel. Shortly thereafter, Lindsey calls. He says he thinks he may have found the earring and why doesn't she drop by W&H this evening and pick it up. Miranda replies that she's just on her way to an exclusive spa to have her hair done—she was just able to get in because of a cancellation and so absolutely can't be late. The spa is on the other side of town—she suggests that they meet for a drink after work somewhere in between. Lindsey agrees—they pick a bar and a time. She gets off the phone—oh shit. She quickly makes another call and talks herself into a hair appointment somewhere. They agree that someone will observe the meeting at a distance—it's still possible that she can talk her way around this. By agreeing to meet her, Lindsey appears to be giving her the benefit of the doubt—she has been a loyal customer for over a century. 


	23. Chapter 23

Scene 7

A quiet bar in L.A. Shot of Lindsey sitting at a bar table, sipping on a drink. We see Miranda walk in and look around. Spotting him, she quickly walks over. He stands up to greet her. They kiss on the cheek and she sits down.

Lindsey: "Miranda—looking lovely as ever."

Miranda: "Thank Sergei at Canale Salon—he did the highlights. Took all bloody afternoon, too."

Lindsey: "What can I get you?"

Miranda: "Scotch, straight up" (he orders)

Lindsey: "That's where most of your money came from, right? Scotch."

Miranda: "Most. My late husband left me a fair share."

Lindsey: "Sorry I never got to meet him—he must've been something."

Miranda: "I don't think you two would have hit it off—he hated lawyers."

Lindsey: "Doesn't everybody?"

Miranda: "I don't know. I'm rather fond of them—they always seem to be able to get me what I want."

Her drink arrives. She takes a deep sip.

Lindsey: "I'm afraid that I brought you here under somewhat false pretenses. I don't have your earring."

Miranda: (playfully) "Lindsey. If you wanted to ask me out on a date, you needn't have gone to all the trouble."

Lindsey: (smiles) "Not that a date with you isn't a worthwhile pursuit, but that's not the reason. When you were in my office the other day—I'd wanted to talk to you about something. Something personal. I wouldn't normally...(he's a bit uncomfortable)...we've known each other a while—this isn't the first time we've shared a drink, so…would you mind if I asked you a personal question?"

Miranda: "Hm. You've certainly gotten my curiosity up—go on then."

Lindsey: "This man—William—who you got the documents for. He's a vampire."

Miranda: "He is."

Lindsey: "How long have you been together?"

Miranda: "Let's see. I guess six months or so. We share a house up in Sunnydale."

Lindsey: "So he actually lives there with you?"

Miranda: "He does."

Lindsey: "What do you do about the kills? You haven't contacted us—how do you avoid the police?"

Miranda: "He doesn't kill. We have an arrangement." (not really wanting to discuss the chip)

Lindsey: "Huh. (He finishes his drink and orders another) Blood?"

Miranda: "A mixture—human blood when we can get it from hospitals and blood banks. Pigs blood if necessary. My blood, what I can spare."

Lindsey: "And that's enough?"

Miranda: "It does the job."

Lindsey: (His drink arrives and he downs it. He suddenly seems almost vulnerable—sad) "He loves you? (She nods) They can love?"

Miranda: (sad/guilty) "Yes. Not so different from us in that regard. (Sensing why he's asking) Of course _can_ doesn't necessarily mean _will_. Do you love her? (he just shrugs) I don't know that I'd take the risk if I were mortal—an extra second or two and that's it."

Lindsey: "He bites you?"

Miranda: "I have the luxury of knowing he can't kill me, even if he wanted to."

Lindsey: "What's it like?"

Miranda: "Incredible—if you don't mind a touch of pain. Unlike anything you've ever experienced."

Lindsey: "I don't think I could trust her. I know I couldn't trust myself."

Miranda: (trying to lighten the mood) "On the bright side, you've only got your soul to lose and you're already a lawyer..."

Lindsey: (He laughs at this; his demeanor changes as he gets hold of himself) "Maybe you're right. Thanks for indulging me."

Miranda: "Anything for an old friend."

Lindsey: "Of course, I'm also a bit curious about why someone who is so in love would be fooling around."

Miranda: (hiding her surprise well—she knew this was too easy) "I knew this wasn't entirely a social call. That was Darla in your office."

Lindsey: "The one and only 200 year ex of the gentleman you slept with last night—she's got a good memory."

Miranda: (She was about to say that it's not that impressive considering Darla had been with him just a few nights before—she wonders if Lindsey knows) "Angel. 'Slept with' is a bit of an overstatement. It was more of a business deal."

Lindsey: "Is that right? I thought you'd given that up for antiques."

Miranda: "You've been looking in my file—a girl's past can come in handy sometimes. Due to the nature of their operation, Angel Investigations often turns up some very interesting pieces. I had interacted with them a bit a few months ago when they were working security at a show I was involved with. I'd heard through some sources that they had something I was interesting in buying. Angel didn't want to sell—said it was some mystical thinga-ma-gig and that it had to go to some priest or mystic or something. So I tried to negotiate. I can be very persuasive if someone has something I want. I did my best—which was very good, I must say. The bastard toyed with me a bit—just enough to make me feel a fool and then kicked me out. Self-righteous asshole."

Lindsey: "It's a good story. Maybe it's even true. We're looking into it. Coincidentally, it appears that someone tampered with my computer this morning—perhaps looked at a few files; made some copies."

Miranda: "Isn't that a shame. And to think, you're only trying to make the world a better place."

Lindsey: "Listen, Miranda. I like you—I've always liked you. That's why I'm giving you some warning. If you're working with him, we'll figure it out sooner or later and when we do, we'll take it all—everything you've worked for. If you break your connection to him, we may let it rest at that—because you're a friend. But if not, expect a call from someone who has the power to take more than your assets."

Miranda: "I appreciate your frankness, Lindsey, but I think you'll find you're blowing this way out of proportion. It was simply a negotiation. (she gets up to go) I, of all people, am not the sort to throw my towel in with the good guys unless there is something in it for me."

Lindsey: "Nothing is worth the price you'd have to pay to take his side. I trust that you, of all people, know that."

Miranda: "Good night, Lindsey. Thanks for the drink."

Back at the hotel later that night.

Angel: "So he knows."

Miranda: "I think he'll do his best to give me a few days. I expect they'll freeze my assets by morning as a sort of warning, but beyond that—I suspect we have a bit of time before..."

Angel: "You think they'll find someone?"

Miranda: "I'm not very high up on the Immortal ladder—won't be hard for them to find someone suitably safe. My biggest source of hope is that most Immortals don't like to be told what to do or who to fight—the pot would have to be pretty sweet. 'Course, resources not exactly a limiting factor for our friends as W&H."

Angel: "You should leave. Go back to Sunnydale. Wes can go through the files you got from Lindsey's computer—he'll figure out what's going on with Darla. It's too dangerous for you to stay."

Miranda: ("Here we go—Angel the martyr again. Tempting as it was to leave and pretend none of this had ever happened, I knew he wasn't near ready and so I had to talk him around again.") "Do you always give up so easily? I'd expect a bit more stamina from a professional hero. ("That was a bit harsh, so I quickly followed with...") "Or is it that you want me to leave. ("Putting on my best 'insecure/needy' face") Things are going too fast and you're not sure about us. I could..." (he interrupts)

Angel: (with that desperate/panic look) "No. No, that's not it at all. Us...uh, things are fine...er good...great. I just...you have so much more to lose than I ever did. I can't ask you to..."

Miranda: "You didn't ask, remember? It was my choice."

Angel: (he nods) "What can we do? Is there any way to get the word out to other Immortals about W&H?"

Miranda: "No. I mean I can contact the few I know, but...unless..."

Angel: "You have an idea?"

Miranda: "Let's go for a walk."

Present day, Miranda telling the story.

Miranda: "That night, we tracked down my watcher. It wasn't easy—they're a slippery bunch, but with Angel's tracking abilities, we were able to turn the tables and watch him for a bit. He quickly got spooked and headed back to wherever it is they live when they're not out following Immortals. In this case, he'd set up shop in an abandoned building not far from the Hyperion. It was all rather creepy—I'd seen him out of the corner of my eye for more than a decade (that's when he must have taken over from the last one), but I'd never spoken to him or to my knowledge been close enough to get a good look at him. I'd never tried to contact any of them before. It seemed wrong. Like we were programmed to ignore their presence. Needless to say, he was very upset when we showed up at his mini-lair-for-one. He had a frightening number of pictures of me lying around and all sorts of computer equipment. I tried not to think too hard about it. He wouldn't talk to me directly—he seemed to have trouble looking me in the eye. So I let Angel do the negotiating. As I had imagined, they take some oath to not interfere with the lives of their Immortals, or any others for that matter. He would be fired—killed more likely if he helped me in any way. After much abuse, we finally got him to agree to listen for any signs that W&H had tried to contact anyone—as this 'setting up' of fights was also considered against the rules and so fell under another sort of category that meant it might be OK for him to look into it. This was all he would promise. Before we left, I asked him his name. I could tell from his demeanor that he wasn't supposed to tell me, but he did. Alex. He looked at me for just a moment when he said it. I decided I liked him, despite his lack of cooperation. (Author's note: I picture the computer nerdy guy from La Femme Nikita--the tv show--as Alex.) By the time we got back to the hotel, I was exhausted. I called and left a message for Duncan, knowing that he had more contacts than me in the Immortal world. We went to bed and straight to sleep. Well, he went straight to sleep. I waited until I was sure he was out and grabbed my phone and snuck up the stairs and outside."

Spike: "That's when you called about the shop." (Miranda nods)

(Author's note: Keep in mind that sometimes the flashbacks are just memories of either Miranda's or Spike's and so she isn't actually relating the story to Spike in that much detail. Sometimes she skips over certain things, particularly most of the scenes between she and Angel. I guess what I'm saying is that just because I've included a written out scene here, doesn't mean Miranda is telling the story in the same amount of detail to Spike. Along those same lines, there are things that I've decided not to write out at all—mostly conversations (among other things) between Angel and Miranda.)

Begin Flashback.

Miranda is sitting somewhere outside the hotel, leaning back against the building. She dials.

Spike: (voice on the phone) "Miranda?"

Miranda: "How'd you know it was me?"

Spike: "Just hoping, I guess." (he sounds a bit drunk)

Miranda: "You pissed?" (as in British for 'drunk')

Spike: "A bit. Well, more than a bit."

Miranda: "If I ask you to do something, are you too drunk to remember? It's important."

Spike: "No worries—got a hefty tolerance, me—be able to stand in no time. What's going on?"

Miranda: "There's been some trouble with my lawyers down here. They're likely to seal off the shop in the next day or two. I need you to get into the back room and move what you can to a safe place. Maybe your old crypt or something."

Spike: "Sounds serious."

Miranda: "It may be."

Spike: "Yeah, alright. Should I go now?"

Miranda: (desperate to not end the conversation now, even though waiting could be risky) "Nah—there's still a couple of hours before sunrise, right?"

Spike: (pause) "You cross with me? That why you haven't called? (not waiting for her to answer) 'Cause, uh, sorry I was such a wanker last time. It's just—I get so angry when you're not here—_'cause_ you're not here. There's nothing to do. I could patrol with Buffy, I guess, but I'm still not feeling great and I hate to get knocked on my ass in front of those idiots. (beat) I miss you."

Miranda: (tearing up, but trying to hide it in her voice) "I'm not—I was never cross with you, William. Things have just hit the fan in the past few days, so there hasn't been any time. Maybe you should go patrolling—it's not like you could be any more pathetic than Xander."

Spike: "True. (cheered a bit) I got you a present. I wasn't gonna tell you, but I thought you'd be back by now."

Miranda: "Yeah? What is it, then?"

Spike: "I'm not going to tell you what it is, just that it's here waiting for you."

Flash to Spike, laying down on a couch, half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, with the kitten curled up in a ball sleeping on his stomach—he gently strokes it as he speaks.

Miranda: "I can't wait."

Spike: "You sound sad. Don't let Captain Dismal suck the life out of you—why do all bloody hero types have to be miserable and mope all the time? No wonder people prefer villains in the movies."

Miranda: "That's just us, love. Most people still root for the good guys."

Spike: "Bollocks."

Miranda: (trying to lighten her tone) "Which reminds me, I am not going with you to see the next Star Wars movie if you insist on cheering loudly every time a Jedi gets offed."

Spike: "I can probably restrain myself, knowing that it all has to go horribly wrong in the end. If only it could have ended with the middle one—that would have been cool. The bad guys never win. It's so bloody boring."

Miranda: "I'm going to have a light sabre one day. I'd be the coolest Immortal around. Light, lethal, pretty colors—that's the weapon for me."

Spike: "You are _such_ a nerd. Besides, they don't let girls have light sabers—haven't you watched the movies?"

Miranda: "Someone is seriously losing a limb if there aren't any girl Jedis in this next one—mark my words."

Spike: "That's more like it"

Miranda: "What?"

Spike: "You just about lost the _mope_ in your voice. You'd better get home quick before it gets terminal."

Miranda: "I want to. Just a few more days."

Spike: "You're gonna need to keep the shop closed for at least 2 days after you get back—I've got plans."

Miranda: "I'd love to hear about them, but I'm not exactly in a private space at the moment. Next time. You should go—move the stuff."

Spike: "Yeah. One more thing. Listen, I know I haven't...I mean, I'm not much for saying stuff on the phone...seems stupid for some reason. It's not that I don't...I'd just rather...fuck it. I love you. Come home before I lose my mind."

Miranda: (barely holding it together) "I love you, too. I'll be home when I can."

She hangs up and then hugs her knees into her chest and sits like that for a moment. After a while, she sits back and lights a cigarette and takes a couple of puffs before putting it out and getting up to go back to bed. She walks quietly into the room and sits on the bed for a moment.

Angel: "You don't have to go outside to smoke, you know."

Miranda: "I thought it would bother you."

Angel: "Secondhand smoke not exactly a problem for the undead (lame ha). Honestly, I don't mind."

Miranda: (pause) "I don't think they'll be able to take the house—I'd forgotten that I paid cash and didn't involve them much. (Seeing the frown descend on his face, she quickly adds) I can sell it, or maybe give it over to Willow and Tara for safe keeping."

Angel: "I know it's not easy."

Miranda: "You'd think for people like us that the longer we lived, the clearer things would become—that we'd figure it all out and everything would be simple."

Angel: "But it just keeps getting more complicated."

Miranda: (she's losing control just a bit) "I think I'd just like to get some sleep now, alright?"

Angel: (he can tell she's upset) "Not talking is almost always my favored option."

She smiles a bit at this, then leans in to kiss him softly on the lips. She gets under the covers and drapes herself over his chest as he puts his arms around her—they quickly go to sleep. A few hours pass—it's daylight. She opens her eyes—the two of them are still in the same position. Initially, she smiles sleepily, but then lifts her head and quickly remembers where she is and the smile disappears. She gently extricates herself from Angel's arms and slips out of bed. She gets dressed and writes out a quick note, which she leaves on her pillow. It simply reads "There's something I have to do. Be back soon. M".

Scene 8

Early morning, St. Michael's church (the one Miranda visited last time where her husband and daughter are buried). Miranda, looking tired and morose pulls open the big front doors. We see the inside of the church—it is medium sized and decorated in the old style with wooden pews and sculptures. There are a couple of beautiful wooden sculptures of angels on either side of the pulpit. We see Miranda's eyes move around the room, taking in the memories that come from the sights, sounds and smells of the place. A soft voice speaks to her—she turns to see a young-ish looking priest watching her.

Priest: "I'm afraid mass doesn't start for another couple of hours. If that's what you've come for."

Miranda: "Actually, I was hoping to see Father Dunn—is he still alive?"

Priest: (a bit surprised) "Yes, though he's mostly retired now. He keeps insisting that his work isn't quite finished yet, so he stays around and does what he can. I can only hope I have such commitment when I'm his age."

Miranda: "So he's here, then? In his chambers?"

Priest: (he nods) "He may not be awake yet. Shall I go and see?"

Miranda: "Yes, thank you. (As he begins to walk off) Even if he isn't up, I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss a visit from an old friend."

The priest just looks puzzled for a moment—this woman is younger than he is—hardly could be considered an _old friend_. Still, he does as she asks. After a few minutes, he reappears.

Priest: "He'll see you now."

He starts to tell her where to go, but she marches off without listening—she knows the way. She pushes the door, which had been open a crack and steps into a small room, closing it behind her. It is sparsely decorated and only has a small bed, a desk and a few bookshelves and one comfortable looking chair. Father Dunn is sitting in the chair—He looks as if he's just got out of bed. He looks up when he hears her enter, but it is obvious from his expression that he must be mostly blind, as he doesn't focus on her. Miranda looks mildly shocked at the sight of him—he's aged so much.

Father Dunn: "It _is_ you, Miranda, isn't it? I'm afraid the years have taken my sight."

Miranda: "Yes. (beat) Everything looks just the same. Except for you, of course."

Father Dunn: "And I suspect you don't look a day older than when I last saw you—the funeral, was it?"

Miranda: "I wasn't at the funeral, remember. Has your memory gone as well?"

Father Dunn: "Could've sworn I saw you there, in the shadows, perhaps?"

Miranda: "Your memory is playing tricks on you. Best not to listen."

Father Dunn: "I knew you'd come. I've been waiting."

Miranda: (rolls her eyes) "Yeah, well, I should beat you senseless—or worse. I can't believe you'd been tracking me with the bloody necklace—one of your Vatican buddies paid me a visit not too long ago."

Father Dunn: "And you helped him?"

Miranda: "That's not the point. It was a violation."

Father Dunn: "ah. But you're not here to chastise me."

Miranda: (sigh) "No, what's done is done. You provided Cal immeasurable comfort towards the end—the kind I couldn't."

Father Dunn: "_Wouldn't_ provide."

Miranda: "I can't very well preach something I don't believe—not even for comfort's sake; perhaps especially not."

Father Dunn: "And yet you're here now. Why?"

Miranda: "Maybe I've seen some things...things that make me wonder if there could be some truth in it."

Father Dunn: "What things?"

Miranda: "More tangible evil. I don't know, maybe I'm ready to believe that there are sides to be taken. (anticipating his thoughts) Nothing more."

Father Dunn: "With tangible evil comes tangible good."

Miranda: "Maybe. I don't know what I believe anymore. (Her voice is cracking a bit) I mean, everyone wants to think that they're a part of something—that they are here for a purpose. I've met some recently who know. But what about the rest of us? Maybe we just see what we want to see—hear what we want to hear. We seek out some destiny that makes us feel important when really we should just mind our own business and get back to our own lives and not try to be what we're clearly not."

Father Dunn: "Sounds like you're trying to talk yourself out of something."

Miranda: (Upset, she walks over to the chair and sits on the floor next to it. She takes his wrinkled old hand in hers and looks up into his blind eyes, pleading) "How do you know when it's time? How do you know if it's real?"

Father Dunn: "Tell me."

Miranda: "I've gotten myself into something—something I don't think I can go through with. (Tears are flowing now) I was happy—I had a life. Things seemed honest for once. But then there was this man—someone who'd been a friend to me. He asked for my help. He's a good man, or trying to be, who was falling apart. Like so many others, he saw something in me that wasn't quite there. I knew that by being that person, I could help him. He just needs a little push is all—something to give him that little bit of strength he can't quite muster. Sounds simple, but it's not. In truth, it requires me to give up everything."

Father Dunn: "If you're asking whether you should sacrifice your own happiness for that of this man, I can only respond by saying that you are equally deserving of happiness."

Miranda: "It's more than that. He has evil inside him—very strong and very powerful. His recent troubles have brought it to the surface and unleashed, this evil could do enormous damage to the world. There are forces at work to banish the good in him and unleash the evil to fuel something bigger than any of us. He is strong, but they might be stronger and I can help him. But the only way I know how—the only path that's clear and familiar is to be..._with_ him."

Father Dunn: (Taking this all in, he sits in silence for a time.) "I see. He will come to love you, no doubt. Could you love him?"

Miranda: "I love another. The pain of his loss swamps everything."

Father Dunn: "Try and put that out of your mind for the moment. Could you love him?"

Miranda: "I have a certain affection for him, but love? (she shakes her head) Unlikely—it would take something big, something unexpected."

Father Dunn closes his eyes tightly, as if meditating. Miranda sits quietly for a while.

Miranda: "It can't be right, can it? It's dishonest. This can't be what I'm supposed to do. It's ridiculous—what was I thinking? Let him solve his own bloody problems" (She starts to get up, but Father Dunn's hand grabs her arm, showing more strength than she'd expect from a feeble old man; she turns to him with pain in her eyes, pleading) "It hurts too much. I _can't_."

Father Dunn: "Let me show you something." (He puts his hands on either side of her head. She experiences a "vision": She is outside, laying on her side in the grass. It is a beautiful summer day and she can feel the warmth of the sun. There is a stream a few yards away—she can hear the water flowing. She has an overwhelming feeling of contentment and happiness. She feels something and looks down and sees her large, pregnant belly. She hears a voice behind her: "let's show mommy the fossil you found"; she turns to see a little girl, maybe 3 years old, proudly holding a small rock—she covers her eyes from the sun and looks upward to see the man who spoke. It's Angel. The priest removes his hands and it's over. Miranda looks overwhelmed and confused and stumbles to her feet.) "Only you can know for certain if it's time."

Still with a look of bewilderment on her face, Miranda hastily leaves—this whole experience has freaked her out and she just wants to have a cigarette to calm her nerves. After she's gone, a pained look descends on the priest's face. Soon there are tears in his eyes. Looking upwards, he speaks.

Father Dunn: "It isn't true. I can feel it. (Getting angrier/more upset) What you had me show her—it's a lie. (shaking his head) Oh, Miranda. I'm so sorry."

(Author's note: obviously Miranda doesn't know this last bit, as it took place when she wasn't present.)


	24. Chapter 24

Scene 9

Present

Miranda: (continuing the story) "The next night there was another 'demon emergency' of some sort. I went with them and played the part. There was lots of fighting, so it kept my mind off things. When we returned, a fax was waiting—A picture of me from that night, fighting with Angel. So that was that. I suggested that everyone take the next day and night off—we could use a break. All there was left to do was wait—it would take them at least a day to find someone to fight me, I was sure. I wanted to have some fun, in case. It was as good a day as it could be without you—it went by quickly. Angel and I had seen a film—a late show—The Limey. We were walking back to the hotel, when a kid bumped me as he walked by. Angel turned to yell after him, and I saw that he'd dropped a small piece of paper on the ground. I reached down and picked it up—it said "9pm tomorrow". I quickly stuffed it in my pocket. I was sure it was from Alex and it meant that W&H had found someone and that the fight would be then. I didn't tell Angel. I wanted a quiet end to the day. It was quiet. I slept for a bit, but then snuck out to call you."

Spike: "You were so strange on the phone that night. I thought maybe you were high or something—spouting off about this and that. I can't fucking believe you didn't tell me."

Miranda: "I wanted to, but I figured that if I lost and I was dead, you'd never have to know anything. It would've been alright for you."

Spike: (pained expression) "It wouldn't have been alright."

Miranda: "In the afternoon, I prepared. I felt OK. Almost confident. You never know about these things—sure, they'd find someone they thought could beat me, but I could get lucky. Angel was more on edge than I was. But I'll tell you something—I don't think Darla or anything particularly existential entered his head for a minute during that time, so things were good. By 8:30, we still hadn't heard a word about it—maybe I'd been wrong about the note. Maybe Alex was wrong. But then Cordy got hit with one of her visions."

xxxxxx

Commence flashback

Cordy falls back, clutching her head. Gunn is there to catch her.

Angel: "Not exactly great timing."

Cordelia: "No, it's the place—where he's waiting."

Angel: "Where is it?"

Cordelia: "Parking lot—corner of Park and West. There's a symbol."

Miranda: "Can you draw it?"

Cordy nods. They find a pad of paper and a pencil. While Cordy is sketching with Wesley's help, Miranda, Gunn and Angel talk.

Gunn: "They don't know you know, right? Playing it a bit close, I'd say. It's 8:30."

Angel: "I'd expect them (W&H thugs) to show up any minute. We should go."

Gunn: "You could make your way to consecrated ground—if you didn't want to fight, right?"

Miranda: "They'd drag me out—best to get there before they force me. Who knows what they might do to tip the scales."

Gunn: "Think they'd pull a Gladiator on you?"

Miranda: "Seems in character."

Angel, frowning with concern, takes hold of Miranda's arm and pulls her close to him—they touch foreheads and she squeezes his shoulders.

Cordelia: (looking at Wesley's drawing, excited) "That's it."

Wesley: "What's the significance of the symbol?"

Miranda: "Every Immortal that's been around has one—we put it on our weapons, possessions, among other things. (She shows them her symbol engraved at the base of her sword) Guess it's about time to find out who I'm fighting."

Gunn: "If this were a movie, now's about the time when our hero says something badass about going into battle."

Miranda: (in response to Gunn's comment...As she walks over to the pad of paper, she scrunches up her nose in a petty sort of way) "I think it's a bit humid, actually, to die today. Don't like the thought of being a sweaty corpse, I'll tell you that. Think maybe I'll stick around till the air dries a bit."

Gunn: (laughs) "Now there's a different take on a tired line..."

Miranda looks at the symbol and her expression falls. She inadvertently lets out a quiet, high-pitched gasp. The blood drains from her face.

Angel: "That bad?"

Miranda: (angry/upset) "There must be a mistake—you must've remembered it wrong. It can't be."

Gunn: "Who is it?"

Miranda: (thinking out loud) "Or...they must have something on him. Oh, God, this can't happen. I won't let it." (She starts to head for the door. Angel rushes forward and grabs her arm to stop her. She turns back) "It's Joseph."

The surprise of this makes Angel loosen his grip and she pulls away. She leaves through the front door, hops on a motorcycle and is off alone.

Wesley: "Joseph. Isn't he the one who was at the antiques show?"

Gunn: "And the one who helped Miranda out during that whole Drusilla revenge-fest."

Cordelia: "Isn't he, like, a thousand years old?"

Angel: "Older."

Wesley: "Do you think she's right? That W&H are blackmailing him into this?"

Angel: "Has to be. He's a good man. No time to figure it all out now—we need to go. If he is being blackmailed, maybe there is something we can do."

Wesley: "Cordy, do you have any record of Joseph's last address—when you paid him a visit back when Spike was trying to track Miranda?"

Cordelia: "No, we got rid of everything—but I think I remember. I'd recognize the house if I saw it."

Angel: "Good. You and Wes go to his house—see what you can find. Maybe what they've got is being kept close to home. Gunn, you're with me. We may not be able to interfere directly, but we sure as hell can keep W&H from hedging their bets."

They all leave.

Flash forward to the parking lot/alley in Cordy's vision. There is a limousine with typical W&H type looking people (business suits) off to one side.

Miranda rides up on her motorcycle, hastily parks it and marches towards the limo, sword in hand. Suddenly there is a voice from a different direction—she turns to see Joseph, ready with his sword.

Joseph: "Miranda. It is time."

Miranda: "Joseph, why are you doing this? I thought we were friends."

Joseph: "Friendship is meaningless in times like these. Raise your sword."

Miranda: "I will not. You can't be here of your own accord."

Joseph: "The circumstances leading us here are irrelevant now. We are Immortals and we will fight with dignity. Raise your sword or I will cut you down."

Angel and Gunn appear—they must have parked around the corner and walked up.

Miranda: (throwing her sword down on the ground dramatically and forcefully shouts) "I will not fight you."

Joseph shoots a worried look in the direction of the limo and the armed men standing there to observe them. He steps quickly towards Miranda and knocks her down with a sharp kick to the head. She lands near where her sword fell and as Joseph steps toward her, threatening the death blow with his sword, she grabs hers and twirls it around just in time to intercept the blow. She gets to her feet and they circle each other for a moment.

Joseph: (loudly) "I will kill you, little Angel. (He steps in and they trade blows with their swords, which moves them closer together. In a softer voice) They have my wife and adopted son. They will kill them if we do not fight."

Hearing this, Miranda takes a deep breath and begins to fight with more fervor. Though convincing to onlookers, she senses that he is holding back. He has the power to take her quickly, but he doesn't. The next time, they are locked close, he speaks again.

Joseph: "You will win this fight, Miranda. There are things you must do."

Miranda: "Don't be silly, Joseph. We'll stall them—my friends will help."

Joseph: "It is too late for that. Duncan and I have discussed it. It is for the best."

Miranda: (confused) "Duncan? Discussed what, exactly?"

Joseph: "You will win and have my power—the timing isn't perfect, but you can adjust. (pause with more fighting) There is a bag in the adjoining alley (he points with his eyes)—in it is what you'll need to destroy the information Wolfram and Hart have on all Immortals. Go there after and take care of it. We cannot have them manipulating the Gathering. They do not understand it."

Interlude of more convincing fighting.

Miranda: "No, Joseph. Who am I to take your life? I am nobody—nothing. My friends..."

Joseph: (not letting her finish) "I'm tired, Miranda. I'm ready. It's your time now."

Miranda: (she sees the weight of millennia in his old eyes—he may be ready, but she's not) "Did I miss a memo or something? All this talk of 'time'—I'm beginning to think I don't have the same watch as everyone else. There's got to be another way."

Joseph: (resigned) "Do this. Save them if you can. Some things are more important."

They continue to fight. Gunn and Angel are mesmerized. They are temporarily snapped out of it by a phone call. It's Wesley—W&H are keeping Joseph's wife and son hostage in their home. They've been listening in on what is happening in the house—as soon as they get the signal from the guy in the parking lot, they're going to kill them. Wesley starts spouting off about a plan to interrupt the cell phone signal to give them time for a rescue, when the battle between Miranda and Josephs starts to heat up.

Joseph: "You're good—more skilled than I expected. You'll do well with this power—you will be an asset."

Miranda: "Don't they (W&H) know that I couldn't win against you? Won't they be suspicious?"

Joseph: "They do not understand everything. Position yourself to get the bag—signal your friends if you can, to protect you from them." (indicating the W&H thugs by the limo)

Miranda looks very distressed, but continues to fight with her all. Then the moment comes with Joseph makes a cut in the wrong direction and gets thrown off balance. This is the time. She sees the vague-est hint of smile on his lips as she swings the final blow. Ah, the Quickening will interfere with the signal—he must have known that. Miranda drops to her knees by the body—touching it gently before the energy overwhelms her. The electric power rushing through her is more than she's ever experienced. When it's over, she sees Angel and Gunn dispatching the henchmen. Miranda runs to find the bag. She quickly scans the contents and then rushes over to A & G. They all look as if they're about to talk at once; but then none of them speaks and there is a strange silence as they all just stand there. Miranda is the first to speak (the others are still in a bit of shock over the whole Quickening thing, having never seen it).

Miranda: "They've got his family somewhere..."

Angel: "At his house—Wes and Cordy are there."

Miranda: "Angel, go help them. Bring the woman and boy back to the hotel—we'll need to protect them if they are still alive. Gunn, you're with me. We're going to blow up a few things at Wolfram & Hart—you up for that?"

Gunn: "Hell yeah."

But instead of moving, they all just stand there for a beat again—like they're catching their breath or something, or almost have too much energy to move.

Angel: "So I guess we should..."

M & G at the same time: "Yeah"

They head off.

Miranda and Gunn go to Wolfram and Hart. There are two things they need to do: 1st get to a computer terminal. In the bag is a disc with a virus-type thing that will infiltrate the system and eradicate all the computer files having to do with Immortals. 2nd is to physically detonate the charges that have already been placed by Joseph to get rid of the hard copies and back-ups. (Ok, so this is all very unlikely, but whatever—I didn't put much thought into it). The two of them manage to pull it off. I picture Miranda and Gunn working well together and actually getting along rather well—unlikely as that seems on paper. Anyway, they finish the job and head back to the hotel. Gunn is all pumped having just blown up a fraction of W&H and eagerly heads inside to tell the others. Miranda opts to stay outside for a minute to have a smoke—Gunn thinks about objecting, but then realizes there's more going on than her just needing a cigarette. He goes on in. She sits on a bench in the garden (?) and lights up—her hands are shaking, along with most of her body. Actually, it's more like buzzing than shaking—you can still see little flicks of light dancing across her skin periodically. After a few minutes, Angel comes outside to find her. He walks over to where she's sitting, but doesn't say anything for a minute or two—he keeps his distance. She is the first to speak.

Miranda: "Are they...?"

Angel: "Alive—yeah. We got there in time. They're inside." (Miranda nods her head) "The fight was...amazing—you were amazing."

Miranda: (Not what she wanted to hear, she lets out a slightly bitter laugh) "He let me win. It was a set up."

Angel: (a bit surprised by this, but seeing she's upset, he doesn't question) "Are you OK?"

Miranda: (a bit manic) "I don't know how to answer that. My body is buzzing, my head is swirling; One second I am overwhelmed with guilt and despair, the next I'm filled with an elation unlike anything you can imagine, and then comes the fear. (tears start to flow) This changes everything. Bastards—how could they do this to me?"

Angel: "If it's one thing I've learned during my time in L.A.—Wolfram and Hart don't take kindly to..."

Miranda: (not letting him finish) "Not them. Duncan and Joseph."

Angel: (seriously confused) "Didn't they just save your life?"

Miranda: "You don't understand. They've sucked me into their world of Immortal politics and whatever else I've managed to avoid in my 140 years. Before, I wasn't even a player—I could slip beneath the radar for the most part. Sure, I'd been hassled, but I didn't have enough power to be bothered by the big boys. Killing Joseph has shot me straight to the top of the hit-list. It's like going from working in the mailroom to being the bloody CEO in a single promotion. So now, not only am I a Player, but I'm an easy target. They'll come from all over—I'll have to..."

Angel: (It's his turn to interrupt her—she's just working herself into a frenzy.) "So you got something you don't think you deserve."

Miranda: "Deserve? It's not about whether I deserve it or not. You're rather obsessed with that concept, aren't you? It's just..."

Angel: (trying to clam her) "shhhhh. It's not worth thinking about right now. They did what they thought was best."

Miranda: (She nods, but the tears are still flowing.) "I didn't want to kill him."

Angel: "I know."

Miranda: (looking at him, desperately) "I can't face them. I can't go in there."

Angel: "Yes you can. You only did what you had to."

Miranda: "But I killed her husband. (Clutching her stomach, as if she's just been stabbed there) I know what that feel's like."

Angel: (wiping away her tears) "They asked to see you. You can do this."

She leans forward, putting her arms around his neck and he pulls her into a tight hug for just a moment—you can still see tears in her eyes as she rests her head on his shoulder. After a moment she takes a deep breath and pulls back. She gives a nod, indicating that she'll go and she stands up.

Miranda: "Angel. Just so you know, the next 24 hours are likely to be a bit odd. Between the conflicting and yet rather intense feelings of my body, heart and mind, I think we're in for some serious mood swings."

Angel: "You forget that I dated a teenage girl for two years—I'm pretty comfortable with mood swings." (This gets a little smile from Miranda—and it's a genuine one.)

They walk into the hotel together. Cordy is just getting Joseph's widow a cup of tea—she's sitting on the couch in the lobby. The boy (15) is leaning against the front counter. As Miranda enters the room, she flinches slightly and looks a bit surprised. The son notices her first and stands up straight and watches her walk towards him. The woman also stands as she approaches.

Miranda: (almost under her breath) "He's going to be an Immortal." (indicating the boy, who at this, stands up taller)

Widow: "Yes—when the time comes."

Miranda: (curious) "How...?"

Widow: "Soon after we were married, we found him—a toddler in a foster home. Joseph knew what he was immediately and so we took him in. (holding out her hand) My name is Lydia and this is my son, Roger."

Miranda steps forward to the woman and takes her hand.

Miranda: (heartfelt) "I'm so sorry."

Lydia: (looking at Miranda with pity) "It's alright, dear. We knew what to expect. He said you were a good person—that you were worthy."

Miranda: "I lost a husband once—I know that you can't really prepare."

Lydia: "I loved him dearly. But I was one of hundreds of wives—he'd lived so many lifetimes. He was tired of it all. Weary, I suppose is the better word. There were times when he couldn't remember my name. I understood. Given a choice, I would have kept him with me a little longer, but sometimes things just happened when they happen. I wanted you to know that it's Ok—we don't blame you for his death. All we ask is that you be worthy of it." (With that, she squeezes Miranda's hand and lets it go.)

Miranda: (nods) "Where will you go?"

Lydia:"We'd made plans of our own—we'll be fine. Joseph made sure we'd be safe."

Miranda: "How old are you, Roger?"

Roger: "Fifteen and a half."

Miranda: "Well, then, I'm sure your father would've wanted you to have this."

She pulls out Joseph's sword that she'd taken with her from the parking lot and hands it to the boy.

Roger: (taking it; in awe) "He never let me touch it. Sometimes he'd say I shouldn't bother with it. Any of it. (excited) Will you teach me?"

Lydia: "Roger! You know we have to leave." (deep frown from Roger)

Miranda: (to Roger) "Maybe someday."

Lydia: "He might not choose that path—he doesn't have to become one of you."

Miranda: "Others might choose for him."

They say their goodbyes and Lydia and Roger head off.

Miranda: (to Cordy, Wes and Angel) "Thanks for getting them out."

Wesley: "That is what we do around here."

Gunn: (a bit sheepish) "Sorry, but I gotta ask. What's the deal with all the fireworks back there?"

Wesley: "Fireworks?"

Gunn: "After she, uh, won the fight, there was this huge electrical thingamajig swirling around—broke all the windows, shorted out the powerlines and them phoosh it hit her like a lightening bolt and then it was gone."

Miranda: "Not gone exactly."

As she says this, she takes a weapon/knife that was sitting on the table and makes a quick cut in her arm—instantly little flashes of light appear and within a few seconds the wound is gone.

Gunn: "So it's inside you?"

Cordelia: "freaky"

Wesley: "Where does it come from?"

Miranda: "Embarrassingly, I don't exactly know. It's set loose whenever an Immortal is killed and is taken in by the Immortal closest to the body."

Wesley: "So it's like a life force?"

Miranda: "Something like that."

Gunn: "What does it feel like?"

Miranda: (thinks about it for a moment and you can tell she's still feeling it) "Like a mixture of heroine and Ecstasy—with no weird interactive side-affects." (as she says this, she closes her eyes slightly)

Gunn: "huh"

Cordelia: "Translation for those of us who didn't hang with the burnouts in high school?"

Wesley: "Really, really good." (C rolls her eyes)

After a bit more 'debriefing', the gang disperses—Cordy, Wes and Gunn head home, leaving Angel and Miranda.

Miranda mentions offhand that he might be able to share in the feeling she has right now (implying he could bite her and feel the effects of the Quickening)—he just gives her a sideways look and changes the subject. She comments that she is bursting with energy and asks if they can go out for a drink. They end up going to Caritas. In summary, Lorne meets Miranda. He compliments her on her effect on Angel's Aura, which has now gone from beige-y black to a blue-ish black (yes, bruise color)—she says she's trying for purple. They have a couple of drinks (actually, Angel sips one, Miranda has more). Miranda sings. A demon buys Miranda a drink—he notices her cowboy boots and asks if she's the one they call 'The Marshall'—he clarifies 'the one who took out Phil's and Drusilla's gang'. Turns out, he's an enemy of Phil's and so he buys her a drink. After a while, they leave. She's still wired and they end up staying up all night and the next morning talking. He gets a bit of sleep, but she's still buzzing.

Scene 10

Later That night, Miranda decides to take something to help her sleep while Angel and Gunn go off on some job. She's down in Angel's room and after taking probably too many of the pills, she is finally sleeping. She's dreaming and from the look of her, it's a sexy dream. Suddenly, Darla appears in the doorway. She saunters over to the bed—she somehow must have known that Angel was out and Miranda would be sleeping, alone. Darla scans the room and seeing Miranda's sword resting against the wall, she grabs it and moves back towards the bed. She gently moves the covers back and one of Miranda's arms so that she now has a clear, unobstructed path to her neck—obviously the plan is to cut off her head with the sword. But, once M's neck is exposed, Darla tilts her head and you can see her thinking "Maybe I'll just have a taste—seems a waste of blood otherwise". So she kneels on the bed and moves in for the bite. As soon as her teeth sink into Miranda's neck and she starts drinking, Miranda moans (in pleasure): "mmm, Spike". Darla pulls back in shock/confusion for just a moment. But now, Miranda is awake enough to know what's happening and she takes the opportunity to elbow Darla off the bed. Darla tries to jump back up, but she's had enough of M's blood to feel a bit drugged herself. They have a ridiculous looking fight/struggle for the sword as both of them are wobbly on their feet and so stagger around like drunks. Finally, Miranda gets the upper hand and somehow manages to tie Darla (not very well) to a chair—luckily, Darla is drugged enough to not realize that she can't break free. Miranda climbs back into the bed and reaches for the phone. Sleepily, she stares at it for a minute.

(Writer's note: Miranda doesn't actually know whether she said Spike's name out loud or if it was just part of the dream. Also, when reading this conversation between Darla and Miranda, keep in mind that they are both a bit drugged, i.e., they should sound a tad bit drunk.)

Miranda: (in a drunken/sleepy voice) "Do you know his cell number?"

Darla: (laughing a superior laugh) "I know everything about him."

Miranda: "Could you give it me, then?"

Darla: "And why would I do that?"

Miranda: "You SO don't know it. He never gave it to you, did he?"

Darla: "Did so."

Miranda: "mm hm. I'd bet you didn't even know he had a cell phone."

Darla: "Everyone's got a cell phone."

Miranda: "So what's his number then?"

Darla: "Why would I tell you?"

Miranda: "To prove that you have it—so that I will take that to mean that you were more to him than a convenient fuck. And maybe be the tiniest bit jealous."

Darla: "I don't have to prove anything."

Miranda: "Ok. I'll just look it up then. (mumbles) I knew you didn't fucking have it."

She stumbles to her feat and starts looking around for her handbag.

Darla: "555 6978"

Miranda: "Thank you. (she dials) I'm not jealous, by the way." (someone picks up) "s'that Gunn? Put Angel on. Oh, right. Um, give him a message for me? Yeah, Darla's here. Tried to kill me. I've tied her up and I'm going back to bed. Yep, that's it. Right O. Cheers." (She hangs up and leans back into the pillow—she's very dizzy and is about to drift off to sleep. In a minute, the phone rings.) "Hello? Angel—thought it might be you. Yeah, Darla. Yup. I imagine she was going to cut off my head with my sword, but then decided to have a taste first. Yep. Sure she could have. She's acting a bit off, so she must've taken a fair bit—I took a few of those little blue pills I have to help me sleep. Yep. Tied to a chair. I'm very tired. Think I'll catch a few z's till you get here. It'll be fine. See you in a bit." (she hangs up and then says to Darla) "He'll be here to kill you shortly."

Darla: (laughs at this) "Doubtful—he's not so good at that."

Miranda: "Yeah. Men are pathetic in that way, aren't they? In the absence of immediate danger, they always hesitate at the critical moment."

Darla: "Lucky for us."

Miranda: "Guess we take what we can get. S'not like they don't have all the other advantages."

Darla: "Oh, I don't know. We do Ok."

Miranda: (smiling) "Yeah, we do."

Darla: "Just out of curiosity, why tie me up—why not just finish the job yourself if you're so keen to have me dead?"

Miranda: "First, I'm not actually so keen to see you dead. Honestly, aside from the attempted beheading, I don't have a particular problem with you at all. We're simply after opposite sides of the same thing."

Darla: "May the best pro win?"

Miranda: "Something like that."

Darla: "And second?"

Miranda: "Oh, right. I have a policy about that. I don't kill girlfriends—ex or otherwise. (adding, matter a fact) Well, except for Dru, but...(catching herself—eyes widening) Dru...Carey."

Darla: (skeptical) "Drew Carey. The guy from tv."

Miranda: (defensive) "Maybe. You wouldn't believe the things that man is capable of."

Darla: "Or maybe, you've got a thing for vampires—a certain bleach blond with a wicked tongue?"

Miranda: "Speaking of blondes, has Angel always had a thing for 'em? There's you and Buffy and...? Has he had other girlfriends?"

Darla: (palpable distaste in her words) "Buffy. I never understood what he saw in that little-girl cheerleader."

Miranda: "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you never had to play that game back in the day. Men like them young and virginal—especially the strapping hero types."

Darla: (eye roll and then smirk) "You're certainly not that. I'd bet you've been around the block a few times. Hm, now what kind of vampire would prefer that kind of girl?"

Miranda: (still trying to change the subject) "So tell me—did he ever, you know, call out Buffy's name when you two were..."

Darla: "Please. He'd be a lot deader if he had."

Miranda: "Yeah, I guess he wouldn't. I mean, he actually loved her, so it's not as if he'd be in quite the same frame of mind when he was with you."

Darla: (burn, then smile) "Nice try. You know, if you weren't distracting my boy with your make-believe hero-trip, I think we could be friends."

Miranda: "Doubtful. I like my vampires a touch less evil."

Darla: (smiling) "Is that right? I hear Spike has gone a bit evil-lite lately—least that was Dru's take."

Miranda: "Yeah, well Dru was a nutcase and he was much better off...(catching herself) Why am I still talking to you? I should be sleeping."

Darla: "Spike was never my type, but..."

Miranda: (anything to change the subject) "What about Lindsey? You two knocking boots?"

Darla: "He wishes."

Miranda: "That he does. And, you know, he's kinda cute and almost evil. I think you kids would..."

Darla: "What was I saying? Oh right, Spike..."

Miranda: (losing her guard a bit) "I believe we were still discussing Lindsey. You know, I hear he's got a big..."

Darla: "Got a bit of a thing for my boy William, do you? Isn't that sweet."

Miranda: "Why don't we get back to Angel—what's your secret?"

Darla: "Professional to professional, it's all in the nose. Pheromones, baby. Gets a whiff and he's like putty in my hands. Well, not putty for long. But getting back to Spike..."

Miranda: "I really should get some sleep now. Angel will be here in a minute—he'll dust you once and for all and I can..."

Darla: "Skip town?"

Miranda: (a bit too defensive) "No. NO! I'm staying right here."

Darla: "I'll tell you something. I tend to like my men big, quiet and not very bright, so Spike and I never really hit it off. But...there were times when I found myself admiring his lips. Very kissable—bitable, don't you think? I can almost taste them now."

In her drugged state, Miranda can't hide her reaction to this image and lets out a slight whimper as she abruptly sits on the bed.

Miranda: "I'm going to sleep now. No, wait. I'm moving you outside, locking the door and THEN I'm going to sleep."

She does all this. Of course, by the time Angel and Gunn return to the hotel, Darla has escaped. Miranda is fast asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Scene 11, etc.

(Writer's note: What follows is a string of abbreviated scenes. What can I say—I'm in a rush to get back to the happy.)

The Hyperion, a couple of days later.

Miranda and Angel come up from downstairs. Cordy and Wesley are in the office.

Cordelia: (to Miranda) "A package came for you. Well, actually it came addressed to someone called "the Marshall", so I opened it and it's a picture—of you, so I can only assume that it's for you."

Miranda: "A picture? How strange. Must be from that bloke at the club from the other night."

Angel: "You sure it's not booby trapped or anything?"

Wesley: "It appears to just be a picture."

Miranda: "Let's have it, then."

Cordelia goes in the other room and brings it in. It is a largish, framed photograph. It is an artfully done black and white picture of Miranda in a wedding gown in front of a mirror. She is looking back over her shoulder and smiling. If you look closely in the mirror, you can see the image of a man in a tuxedo—it is who she is smiling at.

Miranda: (gobsmacked) "Blimey. Where did he ever find this?"

Cordelia: "That dress is FANTASTIC."

Miranda is transfixed; they're all staring at it.

Miranda: "We'd asked a friend to do the photographs. He was an aspiring artist—photography was one of his favorites. He went on to become quite famous, actually. I got rid of all the pictures I had when Cal died."

Wesley: "There's a gallery mark on the back. It must have been on display somewhere with his other work. It's stunning."

Angel: "You look so happy."

Cordelia: "Isn't it supposed to be bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?"

Miranda: "We didn't think much about luck back then."

Cordelia: "I'm just floored that you had a real wedding."

Miranda: "And by 'real', you mean big and expensive?"

Cordelia: (defensive) "No. I mean, why shouldn't you have a big and expensive wedding? What I meant was that I didn't expect you to look like such a normal bride."

Angel: (warning) "Cordy."

Cordelia: "Imagine how many weddings you could have if you were Immortal. You could have a different theme every time. How fun is that?"

Miranda: "It was quite the fairy tale, I'll admit. Every woman should have a day like that."

Cordelia: "You think you'd do it again?"

Miranda: (quick glance to Angel. A bit sad.) "No. Weddings aren't really meant for people like me—doesn't mean anything."

The phone rings. Cordelia answers it.

Cordelia: (to Miranda) "Well, aren't you the popular one today—it's for you. Anya."

Miranda: (a small frown) "Oh. Right then. (she takes the phone from Cordelia) Anya?"

Voice on the phone.

Anya: "Miranda, Hi. When will you be back so we can go shopping? And double date? And...(muffled struggle noises as the phone is being taken away from her. The next voice on the phone is Spike's)

Spike: "What's going on, love? I've been trying your cell number, but I can't get anything."

Miranda: (suddenly looking worried and upset) "Sorry. The phone got smashed during one of our little adventures and I haven't replaced it yet."

Spike: "They cleaned out the shop, but I did get those things you asked for out in time. (pause) I was worried. You still under cover?—s'why I had Anya make the call. Makes me sick just to imagine what they think."

Miranda: "Listen, Spike, it's not a good time to talk right now."

Hearing Spike's name, Angel suddenly turns toward Miranda. She waves him off and turns her back. Angel does his best not to hear/listen out of courtesy, but he can sense the distress in her voice.

Spike: "Seems it's never a good time to talk lately. (more suspicious this time) What's going on?"

Miranda: "I can't. Not right now. I'll call you later, alright?"

Spike: "Promise?"

Miranda: "Did you watch the film? The one I mentioned the other night?"

Spike: "Nah. It sounds really boring. Dawn has to watch it for some school project, though, so she and big sis are gonna' bring the DVD round to watch it here tonight. What's the big deal?"

Miranda: "Nothing. I'll explain later. Just give it a look."

Spike: "Sure, alright. Talk later, then? When you're alone this time."

Miranda: "Goodbye" (She pulls the phone away from her ear and starts to hand it to Cordelia, but Angel grabs it.)

Angel: (into the phone) "I don't want you calling here anymore, Spike. She doesn't want to talk to you."

Spike: "Yeah, right. Good show, mate—going for the Oscar, are you?"

Angel slams down the phone and Miranda bolts for the door. She sits down just outside and Angel stands there watching her in the doorway (it's light out, so he can't go out with her).

Angel: "You could've just hung up when he got on the phone. You don't owe him anything."

Miranda: "The thing is, I haven't actually told him yet. He doesn't know I'm not coming back."

Angel: (surprised; a touch annoyed, but hiding it) "Oh. I guess there hasn't been much time."

Miranda: "He'll come here. Once he understands."

Angel: "Yeah. (beat) We'll deal with it."

Miranda: (dead serious, but some emotion in her voice) "I won't fight him. You should know that. He didn't do anything wrong."

Angel: "I can assure you, he's done plenty"

Miranda: "No. Not in this. He didn't do anything."

Angel: "He let you kill those people."

Miranda: (She gives him a surprised frown/look when he says this—she honestly wasn't expecting it.) "I won't kill him. And I want you to promise me you won't either."

Angel: "I'll do what I have to do."

Miranda: (nodding) "Please, Angel. I'm with you now. I chose this life—I chose you. He needn't be punished for that."

Angel just nods.

xxxxxxxxxx

Back in Sunnydale, that night. Miranda's house. Buffy, Dawn and Spike are sitting on the couch—Spike has just popped the DVD in. He gets up, goes into the kitchen and comes back into the living room with a big bowl of popcorn, which he sets on the table and then plops himself on the big chair next to the couch.

Buffy: (giving a sideways look toward Spike) "You going to watch with us?"

Spike: "Sure, why not?"

Dawn: (looking pleased) "Cool."

Buffy: "It's not exactly your kind of thing. I'm pretty sure there are no explosions, car chases or exploding heads of any kind."

Spike: (mildly offended) "See, there you go, being all stereotypical again—just because I'm evil doesn't mean I can't appreciate a decent film. Even one without, you know, blood and guts and fighting. (thinking about it) God, sounds dreadful."

Dawn: (wanting him to stay) "I'm pretty sure there are guns. And Nazis."

Spike: "Well, then, how can I stay away? Nazis are always good for a laugh."

Dawn: "Wait, I need a pen. Have to take notes for my super-cool film class." (She gets up and rummages through her backpack.)

Buffy: (explaining) "Dawn suddenly feels like a grown-up since she talked her way into a senior elective class."

Dawn: "So when's Miranda coming back, anyway? She promised to teach me how to drive."

Buffy: (defensive) "I'll teach you how to drive."

Dawn: "Yeah, and who is going to teach you first?"

Buffy: "Hey!"

Spike: "Couple of days."

Buffy: "You said that like a week ago."

Spike: (defensive) "She's helping out your bloody pathetic ex, so it's no wonder it's taking longer than expected to bail him out."

Buffy: (a little taken aback) "She's in L.A.? With Angel? I thought you said she was on a business trip."

Spike: (offhand) "Did I? Must've thought you'd be jealous or something."

Dawn: "That's kinda nice."

Spike: "Rest assured, 'nice' had nothing to do with it."

Buffy: "So have you heard from her?"

Spike: (defensive) "Yeah. Sounds like he's in a right mess. (Something is bothering him and you can tell he's not sure whether to bring it up) Past few days, she's been a bit off—I might have to go down there."

Buffy: "Define 'off'?"

Spike: "I don't know. Off. Like she's been taken in by the gloom. She kept going on about my watching this bloody film. And spouting on about all sorts of things—don't really listen that closely."

Buffy: (a bit concerned) "Huh."

Dawn: "Can we start the movie now?"

They watch the movie—it's Casablanca. Afterwards...

Spike: (he's annoyed/upset) "There's no bloody way she would have gone off with that bloke. Such a boring idiot. The other guy got it wrong. God, I hate it when people do stupid noble things that don't make any bloody sense. They'll all be miserable now. What's the point?"

Dawn: "I don't know. Maybe she loved Lazlow, or whatever, the whole time and she only felt bad for Rick and so tried to make him think she still loved him. (proud of herself) Listen to me—I'm discussing a film."

Spike: "No way. She thought she was into the hero guy until she met the bar-owner in Paris but then felt obligated to stay with the boring idiot because they were married. Bloody reason why marriage is a stupid institution—makes people not do things that they really want to do."

Dawn: "I don't think anybody should ever get married." (Buffy shoots an annoyed 'look what you've done' look to Spike.)

Spike: "Of course, you should get married, little bit—men need to be kept in line and...uh...you have to be married to have babies and such and it's the thing that nice girls should do."

Buffy: (eye roll) "Very convincing."

Spike: "I just don't see the point—he should've just done what he said he was going to do."

Dawn: "Well, I mean, the guy—the, uh, idiot—was supposed to be some BIG player in the against-the-Nazis resistance and so I guess the point is that if he's happy, he can go and, like, get people to fight and, uh, maybe end the war. Or something."

Spike: (eye roll from Spike.) "Yeah, like the mental state of one guy can change the fucking world. Stupid."

Dawn: "Maybe it can. If it's the right guy. (not really wanting to disagree with Spike) But I think she was totally more in to Rick. I mean, he's way cooler. For an old guy."

Buffy is just sitting and taking this all in. She's obviously thinking about something.

Buffy: "Spike. You said Miranda asked you specifically to watch this movie?"

Spike: "Yeah. Said she'd explain later."

Buffy: (Her eye's go wide) "Oh my god. Oh my god. She's leaving you. For him. She's not coming back."

Spike: (totally shocked & skeptical) "What? You still talking about the movie?"

Buffy: "You're Rick. Angel's the idiot. I mean, Lazlo."

Spike: (not taking it seriously, but a touch worried) "Last I heard, there weren't any Nazis in LA, so..."

Buffy: "Yeah, but there are plenty of evil things—lawyers, demons, hollywood producers. Seriously, Spike, I think she was trying to send you a message." (Buffy is freaked out by this realization as well—she's not trying to be cruel or anything.)

Spike: (looking a bit more concerned) "Nah, its just part of the act. He's been telling folks down there she's his girl and she's been playing along. (a bit less confident) It's just an act."

The scene ends with Buffy and Spike both looking dismayed on the couch and Dawn scribbling notes in a notebook—she hasn't been listening to their conversation.

Back in L.A. A day or two later.

(Again, kids, I'm skipping over stuff. I may bet back there...)

Miranda walks back into the hotel; she's obviously been out for the day. Angel is in his office. Miranda walks in and sits down, looking exhausted.

Miranda: "You up for a walk? There's a little park not to far from here—I spied a rather impressive tree that seemed to call out for company."

Angel: "I should stick around—Wes and Gunn are out on a call and may need back-up. How was shopping with Anya?"

Miranda: "Oh, right. Anya. Yeah, it was a ruse. Again. What is it with you people?"

Angel: "A ruse?"

Miranda: "When I got up to Santa Barbara, Anya wasn't waiting to meet me. It was Buffy."

Angel: (taken aback): "Buffy?"

Miranda: "Do you have any other ex-girlfriends I should know about—this is getting rather ridiculous."

Angel: (obviously uncomfortable) "uh. No, that about covers it. What did Buffy...uh...want exactly?"

Miranda: "I suppose she just wanted to hear it for herself. Maybe Spike asked her to come. I don't know."

Angel: "huh. Buffy."

Miranda: (mildly annoyed) "You know, there could come a point when you could stop repeating her name."

Angel: "Sorry."

Miranda: "She was concerned. About you. Wanted to know my intentions."

Angel: "And what did you tell her?"

Miranda: (smiling) "That though no one ever knows how things will work out, that my intentions were to make you happy. She made me swear up and down that I'd treat you right. (pause) But boy, that girl sure can't hold her liquor."

Angel: "You got her drunk?"

Miranda: "Oh, she got herself drunk. Something tells me that she'd never actually considered the possibility of your moving on."

Angel: (pained look) "It wasn't easy for me, either. When she...you know...moved on."

Miranda: (a bit more serious) "Listen, Angel. I just want you to know that I don't anticipate...I don't expect you to ever love me the way you loved her. You shouldn't feel that pressure—that guilt. There are all different kinds of love."

Angel: (slight frown as he contemplates this for a moment) "How is it that you always know exactly what to say?"

Miranda: "It's one of my many talents. (more serious) I mean it. (pause—change of subject) You ready for that walk? That is what cell phones are for."

They leave.

xxxxxxxxxx

The next evening. Angel's room/apartment.

(Writer's note: when I first conceived of this scene, I had it in my head that Angel's room at the hotel was upstairs and not downstairs. Don't know WHAT I was thinking!)

Angel has just finished showering. It's just before dusk. He's getting dressed when suddenly there is a knock at the door. He walks over to open it and says as he moves to pull the door...

Angel: "Forget your key?"

But as the door opens, his expression fades to a deep frown. Standing in the doorway is Spike.

Spike: (He's surprisingly calm—not in 'pounce' mode. Straight to business) "I need to talk to Miranda."

Angel: (keeping in mind what Miranda said, he replies, calmly) "She's not here."

Spike: (inhales—confirming that she isn't there) "Where can I find her, then?"

Angel: "I'm not sure she'd want to be found by you."

Spike: "What, you afraid one look at me and she'll turn her heals, dump your thick ass and come straight back to Sunnydale? 'Cause you're probably right."

Angel: "She's running. You know, exercise."

Spike: "Never did that when she was with me. Must be all that sexual frustration, eh? Cheers."

He ducks back and out the window before Angel can get his hands on him. It's still light out, and Spike knows he can intercept Miranda on the way back from her run and Angel won't be able to interfere. He waits outside in a nearby alley. Soon Miranda comes running up past the alley and she stops. She sees Spike.

(Another writer's note: I had this vision of Angel watching the conversation between Spike and Miranda from an upstairs window—but in my mind, the super-vampire hearing was not part of the deal, so he saw but did not hear what was going on below. He's just waiting for the sun to go down.)

Miranda: "That was fast."

She thought he might not come for a day or two still. She leans back against the wall of the building. He walks towards her and offers a cigarette. She takes it and he lights it for her. She takes a drag before looking at him. They're both remarkably calm.

Spike: "So. Ingrid. That your idea of a little joke?"

Miranda: "Oh, I don't know. Thought maybe it might ease the idea in a bit."

Spike: "Right. Hadn't realized you were such a bloody coward."

Miranda: "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

Spike: "What's this really about, then?"

Miranda: "Somebody's got to fight the Nazis, don't they?"

Spike: (now getting angry) "So, what—you want to be a Slayer now? 'Cause I think that position's filled. Short, blonde girl with a mean right hook and an attitude problem? Sound familiar? Oh, and then there's soul-boy and I've heard rumors about some bird in jail, so pretty much we've got an heir and a spare, so where do you fit in?"

Miranda: "It's just something I need to do."

Spike: (frowning in disbelief/confusion) "Something you need to do. And yet, you never mentioned it before. I'd think maybe you'd bring it up before deciding I couldn't be involved."

Miranda: "Maybe I did and you just weren't paying attention."

Spike: "Bollocks. (he's not quite sure) So that's why you left. To play the hero with captain gloom. (beat) We could do that if it's what you wanted. I help Buffy with that sort of thing now and again—I'm not opposed to it altogether."

Miranda: "Oh, come on, love. You and I as an evil-fighting team is ludicrous. (imitating) "Yeah, we'll just have a quick shag and then it's off to the graveyard to fight evil. Oh, and a quick cup of tea. Maybe a short nap. Alright, then, one more snog and then surely we're off. Oh, but it's a bit cold, so how about a whiskey to take the edge off." Pathetic. It'd never work."

Spike: "You're right, but that's not the reason. And it can't be for him. You think he's as stupid as I do—we make fun of him all the time."

Miranda: (How can she look him in the eye and manipulate him like this?) "Maybe that's just what I wanted you to think. Maybe that's what I knew you wanted to hear."

Spike: (a look of confusion crosses his face) "You can't fool me like that."

Miranda: "Can't I?"

Spike: (angry) "Do you still love me?"

Miranda: "Of course I do. You don't stop loving someone in a fortnight."

Spike: "Then, why?..."

Miranda: "Because I shouldn't."

Spike: "Shouldn't?"

Miranda: (Using words he's heard before) "I'm not like you."

Spike: "But you are like him? Maybe you're not too clear on his history, love, but..."

Miranda: (She cuts him off.) "I'm a better person when I'm with him."

Spike: "So that's it, then: "We'll always have Sunnydale?"—doesn't quite have the same ring, does it? I suppose you'll want to be friends."

Miranda: (dead serious—this is the truth) "I'll never want to be your friend, Spike. We could never be friends."

Spike: (Stepping towards her. The angry edge off his voice) "Come on, love. Let's just forget this ever happened. Come home with me. 'Course I'd have to make you sign something that you're not allowed to set foot in this town alone. Ever."

Miranda: "No. I can't. We need to say goodbye."

He's right in her face now and you can see her resolve weakening—you can even hear it in her voice. He reaches forward and touches her hair. She doesn't move. Then he leans in.

Spike: "Come home."

He kisses her and though at first she's completely stiff, she begins to soften—it goes on for a bit until she pushes away slightly. He responds by pulling her closer and nuzzling her neck. As his lips reach her neck, he kisses it softly—she roughly pushes him away.

Miranda: (pretend-over-the-top-angry voice) "So that's what you want, is it? That's what you miss? Afraid you'll lose your tolerance for daylight?"

Spike: (genuinely taken aback) "I wasn't...I don't care about..."

Miranda: (stern) "Thanks for making this easier. Go home, William."

Spike: "This isn't right. You'll never be happy here."

Miranda: "Sometimes it's not about being happy. Go home."

Spike: "There's the kicker. Went out for cigarettes last night and when I got back, what do you know, but I'd been uninvited—to my own bloody house. Can't even get my stuff out. You arrange that?"

Miranda: (surprised—it must have been Lindsey. She can't hide her sadness) "No, I...I wanted you to keep the house."

Spike: (bitter) "Hadn't you heard? Vampires don't live in houses. Alone, at least. So fuck the bloody house."

Just then, Angel appears—the sun has gone down.

Angel: "It's time to go, Spike. I know you're still weak—you know we could take you." (Miranda shoots Angel a frown at the 'we')

Spike: "Come on, M. Tell him you just feel sorry for him—that's why you're here. Some misguided sense of duty. Go on. Tell him."

Miranda: (Miranda possessively takes hold of Angel's hand) "Go back to Sunnydale, Spike. It's over."

The conviction and finality of her words leave Spike dazed. He brushes past them, angrily. With a look of anger/despair/confusion, he stalks off. He needs to regroup and think about what just happened. She didn't mean it, did she? What sort of thing does Angel have working on her? She couldn't have meant it, could she? The reality of the situation is too painful for him to face there, so he in fact does head back up to Sunnydale. Angel and Miranda head back into the hotel. Miranda is extremely upset, but she's covering as best she can. She's looking for some comfort.

Miranda: "Thanks. For not...you know. That was hard."

Angel: (not comfort voice; a twinge of jealousy) "That was quite a kiss."

Miranda: (in disbelief—he's going to give her grief about THAT?) "It was goodbye."

Angel: "I'm just saying, it didn't look so much like goodbye—more like 'welcome to my mouth'"

Miranda: (indignant) "Sod off. You have no idea how hard that was for me. (rolling her eyes) I'm going to get something to eat." (She angrily grabs her wallet and starts to leave. He grabs her arm.)

Angel: "What you said before, about Buffy. The same apply to Spike? Is that what you were trying to tell me—that you could never..." (She doesn't let him finish and pulls free of his hold.)

Miranda: "Let go of me! I can't discuss this right now. (She rushes out the door, but then stops and without turning around.) You can have everything, Angel, but that's all."

She leaves with an expression full of pain and frustration.

Back in Sunnydale. Shortly after Spike returns. Xander & Anya's apartment.

(Writer's note: obviously, this is from Spike's memory and not part of Miranda's narrative.)

Loud knock at the door—it's late, but Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara are all up and watching TV. There's an empty pizza box and a few empty bottles. Xander gets up, but before he gets to the door, there's another impatient knock.

Xander: "Ok, ok, I'm coming. Geez louise."

He opens the door to find Spike in the doorway—it doesn't take much to see that he's piss drunk and out-of-it.

Spike: "Buffy." (All the words he can manage.)

Xander: "No, It's Xander. Xander, as in the guy who isn't going to invite you in now that you've obviously taken to bathing in alcohol."

Spike: (Stumbling through the doorway—literally, he is barely conscious) "Already invited, you pillock."

Xander: "Is it me, or doesn't it seem a tad bit unwise for a vampire to cover himself in flammable liquid when flames are so easy to come by?"

Spike: "Watcher said Buffy may be here."

Xander: "Sorry, Tarzan. She took Dawn home about an hour ago."

Pained look on Spike's face as he turns to go. Something drops out of his coat—it's a stake. He bends over to pick it up and staggers and almost falls as he stands back up.

Xander: "Woah, be careful with that, Sparky. It's all fun and games until someone...er...turns to dust."

Spike: (Glancing at Xander and then at the stake—he's only taking in select words.) "No. 'want the slayer to do it."

A tiny bit of sympathy crosses Xander's face as he understands why Spike is looking for Buffy. Anya walks in.

Anya: (trying to be helpful) "Perhaps you'd like some day-old coffee. It's a little slushy, but I can add some water and reheat it in the microwave. (Spike is still staring at the stake—a bit comatose. She adds) I'm sorry she left you. Women are bitches."

Xander: (honestly trying to say something a bit nice) "Hey, look at the bright side. At least they'll be no more double dating—sure you won't be sad to not see my mug every other Saturday."

Spike staggers a bit towards the door and then out of the blue, slugs Xander across the face and he goes flying backwards. Spike doesn't flinch at all from the chip.

Spike: "Sorry, mate. Just wanted to know if there was anything left."

Everyone rushes over to help Xander and Spike staggers out the door.

xxxx

A bit later, outside Buffy's house. Spike is throwing rocks at the windows, missing more than once. He's also yelling her name loudly. In a minute, a light comes on and Buffy appears in the doorway.

Buffy: "Spike! Will you please shut up—you're going to wake up Dawn."

Spike: "s'just trying to get your attention."

Buffy: "Well, you've got it, so what do you want?"

Spike: (He staggers up to the door and then starts looking in his pockets for the stake, but can't find it right away) "Bloody hell."

Buffy: "Will you keep your voice down and come inside? The neighbors are already on the verge of calling children's services."

Spike: (He looks confused and says loudly.) "What?"

At this, she grabs him by the lapels and pulls him inside, shutting the door behind. He looks around, not quite keeping up. He blinks and then continues looking for the stake. Buffy has her angry/impatient look, complete with crossed arms.

Buffy: "What do you want, Spike? It's the middle of the night."

Spike: (Finding it, he triumphantly holds it up and then stops and chuckles a bit) "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." (quoting Casablanca)

Buffy: (a little sympathy) "You went to L.A."

Spike: "It's over—you win. Feather in the cap of our little fair-haired slayer."

Buffy: "Spike, I..."

Spike: (Holding out the stake. More serious now.) "'least there's small bit of dignity in being taken out by a Slayer. I want you to be the one, Buffy."

Buffy: "Tempting as this all is, I'm pretty sure you left your better judgment in a bar somewhere. Let me get you some tea or something."

Spike: (frowning; annoyed) "If it's one thing I thought I could bloody well count on, it's your willingness to turn me to dust given half a chance."

Buffy: "Honestly, Spike, I've had plenty of chances."

She turns and walks towards the kitchen—he follows her.

Spike: "I don't want your stupid pity tea. What I want is the feel of that wood in my chest."

Buffy: "Tea first, wood later. (catching herself) Ooh, that didn't quite come out right. Just sit down a minute."

Spike: (Confused and sort of swaying. He then shakes his head and gets a wild look in his eye) "If you don't kill me right now, I'll bite someone. Yeah, that's it—I'll march right out the door and bite the first person I meet."

Buffy: "You can't hurt anyone, remember? Soldier boys, skull drilling, migraines—any of this ringing a bell?"

Spike: (laughs) "Like the pain from the chip is anywhere near the pain I'm already feeling right now—believe me, I won't even notice. I'm warning you."

Buffy: (real sympathy) "You've been around for like, a hundred years—What's five more minutes?"

Spike: (furious—he needs to push her further) "What about I go upstairs? Little sis got a neck like any other."

Buffy: "You're bluffing."

Spike: "Am I?

He goes to take a step in the direction of the stairs, but ends up losing his balance and falling over. He stays down, as the room is obviously spinning.

Buffy: "Yeah, you're not going anywhere for a while. How about this—you sit with me on the couch until you sober up a bit and if you still want me to kill you in the morning, I'll stake you with a smile." (She steps over to him and holds out her hand.)

Spike: "You promise?"

Buffy: "Scouts honor. Ok, blue-bird honor—didn't actually ever make it to the scout thing."

He looks defeated and after a minute, grabs hold of her hand and she helps him up. They stagger towards the couch. On the coffee table is an opened bottle of wine, an empty glass and a box of tissues. Spike blinks hard as he looks over these items, trying to focus his alcohol muddled mind.

Spike: "You been hitting the bottle, too."

Buffy: "Please. Hardly the same. It is entirely normal for a girl like me to have a glass or two of wine on a Saturday night without it being creepy and self-destructive."

Spike: "Alone?"

Buffy: (Busted. She picks up the bottle, takes a swig and passes it to him) "So did you see them (she can barely spit the words out)...together?"

Spike: (not really answering) "I HATE him. I hate every cell in his stupid, poncy, neck-less body. Apparently, he was put on this bloody earth to make my life a fucking miserable disaster. God, and he's so superior about it all—like he's the strapping hero, when what he's done is steal my girlfriend when I wasn't even there. Tell me how that is bloody honorable. He's a selfish, backstabbing hypocrite who can't keep it in his nancy superhero-wannabe trousers. (looking over at Buffy and seeing her slightly distressed look, he adds as an afterthought) And that's why you shouldn't be upset over 'im even the tiniest bit."

Buffy: (taking another swig—sort of mumbling to herself) "Maybe it wasn't ever about my life—maybe he just didn't want to be with me. I guess I just thought he'd be alone. Like, forever. Does that make me selfish?"

Spike: "Nah. He should be alone. Bastard. (pause) Is it morning yet? Don't think I can take much more."

Buffy: "For what it's worth, she asked me not to kill you."

Spike: "She's a real sadistic bitch then, isn't she? Bloody wants me to suffer."

Buffy: "That's not really the vibe I was getting. 'Course I'd had a few margaritas at that point. No, she definitely wants you alive. Maybe it's all just a phase."

Spike: (hopeful) "Maybe if he were dead..."

Buffy: "We're so not going there with this conversation."

Spike: "Everything was perfect." (He's getting teary.)

Buffy: "Yeah, I know."

They sit in silence for a while. Flash forward and they're both asleep. Spike sneaks out before daylight, leaving the stake behind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quick summary. AGAIN. A few days later, Darla shows up in Sunnydale. She finds Spike, who has shut himself up in a real stone coffin in a desolate crypt and after much persuasion, convinces him to join her for a last ditch attempt to mess with Angel and Miranda in L.A. They go to L.A.—I can't remember exactly what their plan was, but in the end, it fails and Angel ends up choosing to let Darla go instead of killing her so long as she promises to leave town and take Spike with her. She and Spike leave town together.

tbc...


	26. Chapter 26

(AN: I've been sometimes posting two chapters at once, and from the hits counter, it seems that some folks not realizing it may have skipped a chapter. Just be sure to check that you haven't missed anything! This one I posted alone.)

Scene 12

The present. Spike and Miranda's hotel room in L.A.

Spike: (His memories are making him bitter) "Figured you didn't want to burn your bridges—s'why you told her not to kill me, innit? In case he threw you out."

Miranda: (hurt that he would think that, but resigned that he has no reason to believe/trust her) "You underestimate my confidence—I knew that he wouldn't."

Spike: "We've still got a bit of time to cover before tomorrow, so you'd best keep on with it..."

Miranda: "Things just sort of went on from there. At first, Angel was simply my little project. Darla was gone, but there was a lingering hopelessness and with that, vulnerability. I showed him what I knew of the good in this world. I did my best to be the perfect girlfriend for him. This was going to be my life now and I set my mind to fitting in. An amazing thing happens sometimes, if you pretend long enough and well enough. You start to believe. I was part of the team. I was doing good—it was the right thing. Happiness is selfishness, so you do what's right and any happiness that comes is incidental. I found myself buying in to the whole business—broodiness and all. God, you would have been appalled. But there you have it. I was resigned and after a time, able to bury my sadness deep enough that I could almost forget it was there. Angel knew. I was the perfect girlfriend, save one little detail. I couldn't say the words without meaning them. I've never been able to. You probably think I'm lying, but it's true. He said it; I couldn't and we went on from there. Strangely, I think he didn't mind so much—it fit quite neatly into his world.

Of course there were times when it was clear that I didn't fit in. Funny how one's personal history repeats itself. I remember finally calling him out on his whole refusal to take blood from me. I'd offered on occasion and he always just brushed it off. He made a number of arguments, none of which made much sense to me, especially seeing the potential benefits. Perhaps I should've let it go, but something possessed me to press on.

(remembering to herself) "But you'd be less vulnerable—you could do more. I heal quickly—more so after the last Quickening. You wouldn't be hurting me, in fact (with a coy smile) I rather like it. I don't understand why..." He didn't let me finish. I don't know what I was expecting him to say—I knew kinky sex didn't exactly fit in with his pseudo monastic lifestyle. I thought, maybe it was the whole Drusilla episode that made him hesitate—perhaps he thought I was still traumatized by it or something. Instead, he turned to look me straight in the eye and said, deadly serious: "Because it's wrong", then he quickly looked away. Unspoken was the logical implication that because I encouraged it—enjoyed it, even—that_ I _was wrong. I was frozen for a moment. I'd seen that look—even heard those words before. Suddenly it was Cal standing in front of me saying in his Irish brogue: "But, it's wrong, love. Can't you see that?" I was whisked back in time some 60 years. Cal and I had been married a couple of years and were considering adopting a child. More than anything, I wanted _his_ child. I had an idea. I discretely began searching for a surrogate mother. After some time, I'd found the perfect situation. A pretty young war widow with three children who was sympathetic to my situation and who desperately wanted to give her children a better life. She and her family would stay with us until the baby was born and afterwards, we would guarantee an income for her until her own children were grown. Of course, I'd kept it all a secret until I'd arranged it and was planning to surprise Cal with the news on his birthday. I knew he would object at first and I was prepared for that—this was before artificial insemination and he would, of course, be concerned about my feelings. But, once I made it clear to him that I really didn't mind, I was sure he'd be as thrilled as I was. The day came and I'd already arranged for the family to come to the house so he could meet them after I'd told him the news. I was bursting with excitement. She arrived a bit early and I had them shown into the library so I could have a chance to explain to Cal in private. I was gushing when I told him what I'd planned, thinking myself so very clever. But as I articulated the story, I saw his face change from a happy curiosity to a deepening frown. Not letting him speak and anticipating the reason for his displeasure, I rushed right to the part about my knowing that he would object because of the required infidelity. I assured him that I wouldn't be jealous—that I knew he loved me and this was simply a means to an end. Besides, it's only sex—just a physical act. I wanted his baby so much that nothing else could possibly matter. This seemed to have the opposite affect of what I'd intended and he looked deeply concerned, or perhaps puzzled. "But, it's wrong, love. Can't you see that?" He looked at me like he didn't know me. And then he couldn't look at me. On his way out of the room, with his back to me, in a calm, but forceful voice, he told me to give the woman what I'd promised and send her away immediately. We were not to speak of this again. I felt like a little girl who'd displeased her father. It crushed me. I didn't understand, but I knew better than to ask him to explain. All I knew at that moment was that I wasn't like him and he knew it, too."

Spike: "Bloody Irishmen."

Miranda: (small smile) "Yeah. They're big on the moral absolutes, aren't they? (moving on) Some time after that, I managed to gain the moral disapproval of the others. It seems our pal, Eddie, couldn't keep his mouth shut and gave away my whereabouts to an inquiring mind. I returned to the hotel one morning to find it had been taken over by a gang of mortals—Cordy, Gunn and Angel were already tied up and before I had time to think how or why, I'd been knocked out myself. I woke to find myself rather securely tied to a chair with a whopping headache. Heading up the gang was this lovely 20-something woman—completely psychotic. Even killed one of her own men in front of us for some trivial infraction. She'd obviously come looking for me, though I didn't recognize her in the least."

Begin flashback.

Gunn and Cordy are tied back-to-back. Angel is chained a bit more substantially to a third chair and Miranda is on her own, facing them (tied to a chair), just waking up. There are maybe eight men posted around with guns and electric shock thingys. The psychotic woman is in typical evil-woman attire—leather pants, etc. and is pacing around obviously waiting for something. She notices that Miranda is coming around and she stalks over to her. One of the head 'thugs' watches.

Thug1: "You sure that's her? Shouldn't she be, you know, older?"

Psychotic Woman: (shooting him an annoyed glare) "Oh, it's her. Eddie warned me not to be fooled (she takes hold of Miranda's chin and inspects her face more closely). How do you manage it?"

Miranda: "It's all in the face cream. That, and lots of whiskey—works as a preservative."

The woman roughly takes her hand away and moves a couple of steps back. Just then, another man comes in from outside and whispers something in PW's ear. She frowns.

Psychotic Woman: "I was going to wait for everyone, but I'm getting bored. You really should enforce punctuality in your employees, Mr. Angel."

Angel: "What's this all about? If you're interested in money, you must've figured out by now that we don't have any."

Psychotic Woman: "Funny way to run a business. (picking up one of the business cards) "We help the helpless"...and sadly, the helpless rarely have much cash. Or are willing to part with it once they've been rescued, eh? No, we're not here to rob you."

Cordelia: "Ransom? Because I don't know what you've heard, but my parents are pretty much broke now and no one else around here has a dime to speak of—well, not anymore."

Psychotic Woman: (ignoring Cordy) "So you're a group of professional 'good guys'. Hmmm, how wonderfully ironic."

Gunn: "I'm guessing this'll be the part of the program where you explain why."

Psychotic Woman: "Miranda, perhaps you'd like to give it a go."

Miranda: (flippant) "I'll just take a wild guess here that it has something to do with me. Perhaps I have offended you on a personal level at some point, and hence you view me as the 'bad guy'."

Psychotic Woman: "I have to wonder how much your co-workers know about your past."

Miranda: "Probably more than you, but I'm guessing you have a particular era in mind."

Psychotic Woman: "Miranda used to be a very naughty girl, didn't you?"

Miranda: (v. bad attitude) "Again, you're going to have to give me a decade or a city..."

Psychotic Woman: (getting annoyed) "New York."

Miranda: "And? Honestly, this is dragging on a bit, don't you think? Can we get to the point, or are you intent on strutting around like a poorly written villain until we die of boredom?"

PW slaps Miranda hard across the face, drawing some blood.

Psychotic Woman: (to the rest of them) "She's a killer."

Miranda: "So are you."

Psychotic Woman: "You made me that way."

Miranda: "I think I'd remember if I had a trainee—I always worked alone."

Cordelia: (confused) "What is she talking about? Sure, Miranda cuts off people's heads, but those are just her kind of people and it's self-defense, so I'm thinking this is all just a big misunderstanding."

Gunn: "Yeah, this some sort of Immortal feud or something?"

Psychotic Woman: (still just talking to Miranda) "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Miranda: "That makes you very angry doesn't it? Perhaps you should give me more hints."

Psychotic Woman: "You killed my father."

Miranda: "I killed a lot of people's fathers. Be more specific."

PW takes Miranda's throat in her hands and starts strangling her. After a minute, she abruptly lets go and Miranda is coughing.

Psychotic Woman: (calming herself) "No, of course you wouldn't know me. I'm probably one of a hundred orphans made by you, you cold-hearted bitch."

Cordelia: "I thought Immortals couldn't have kids. What's going on? (completely certain) Miranda's not a killer."

Angel shoots a look over to Miranda—she doesn't acknowledge it.

Miranda: (remaining cool & calm) "You exaggerate—I suspect the number is barely in the double digits. (flippant) Why is it that they always turn into revenge seekers and psychotic killers—why not become a cop or rebel against violence altogether and become like a pacifist or something? That would be refreshing. This is all so very _Xena_."

Gunn: (confused) "Why you acting like that, M?"

Psychotic Woman: "Guess you didn't know that you've been fighting alongside a murderer?"

Miranda: "Please, the PC term is 'contract killer', haven't you heard? So yeah, I mostly helped the Mob families kill each other off one by one."

Gunn: "And that makes it OK? And what's with the _mostly_?"

Miranda: "To quote John Cusack: "If I show up at your door, chances are you did something to bring me there." I killed for money, not for the hell of it."

Gunn: "Once again, that makes it OK?" (not)

Cordelia: "Wait, John Cusack is a contract killer? But he's so cute." (Gunn just shakes his head at her)

Miranda: (shrugging) "It was a phase. (turning to PW) Listen Callisto, Xena don't play that game anymore."

Cordelia: (just catching up—she's obviously a bit crushed.) "So it's all true?"

Miranda just looks at her and for the first time shows a bit of emotion (regret) on her face.

Angel: "We've all made mistakes."

Cordelia: "Shoplifting a lipstick from Saks is not quite up there with professional killer. Gunn?"

Gunn: "Grand theft auto, but that's about as close as I get."

Angel: "Let's not go there. I think we all know that I'd win that game, hands down."

Cordelia: "Yeah, but you didn't have a soul. What's her excuse?"

Miranda: (the attitude mostly gone from her voice) "I don't have one. (starts to say something, but then stops herself) It's complicated."

Cordelia: "But that was the last time, right? You haven't, you know, killed anyone recently."

Psychotic Woman: (clapping her hands together in glee) "Oh please, oh please, can I tell them? This is _so_ much fun."

Angel: (knowing what's coming, he jumps in to defend her) "She thought she had to...to help Spike. They were hardened criminals."

Psychotic Woman: "Aw. Isn't that sweet—you're boyfriend jumping to your defense (she makes the 'vomit' gesture). What I can't fathom is how a 15 year old girl could be a hardened criminal. (shrugging) Kids."

Now Miranda is looking very defeated. Her attitude is completely gone. The others are all dumbstruck—Cordy and Gunn both won't look at her.

Miranda: (in a soft voice) "You've been looking for me for some time now."

Psychotic Woman: "Yeah. It took some doing, but boy, was it worth the wait. I'll bet this part is going to be every bit as satisfying as killing you. Who knew the 'reveal' would be so devastating to your friends."

Miranda: "They're not my friends. We just work together."

Psychotic Woman: "Don't worry. I'll probably let them go—a reward for the amusement they've given me. Except the boyfriend, of course. There is such a thing as payback."

Miranda: "Revenge is sweet."

Psychotic Woman: "You being sarcastic? Is this the part where you try to convince me that revenge won't bring me happiness?"

Miranda: "On the contrary, based on my personal experience, it will feel fantastic. Happiness, though, is an entirely different matter. It's too late for you, isn't it?" (real concern on her face)

Psychotic Woman: (seething anger) "Don't you dare pity me."

Miranda: (looking closely into her eyes.) "You're Emily, aren't you?"

One of the thugs who's been paying attention lets out a small laugh.

Thug1: "Emily?"

PW gives him a deep glare and then turns back to Miranda. Emily's a bit taken aback, but then quickly composes herself and nods.

E/Psychotic Woman: "You remember."

Miranda: (thinking back; sadness, apologetic) "I didn't mean for you to see—I should've checked that the door was locked."

Emily: (through clenched teeth) "Tell them."

Miranda: "I quit the business after that. I couldn't stomach it."

Emily: (more forceful now) "Tell them."

Miranda: "I was one of many bounty hunters after Emily's father. He'd made a lot of people angry, but was so good at disappearing that no one could get close to him. I knew something they didn't, though. I knew he had a daughter. I knew he must have loved her very much because he risked everything to come out of hiding to see her quite regularly. He was always clever about it—never in the same place twice. But I was clever too and after a time was able to make some educated guesses. One time, I got lucky. Found them in a rented caravan. After a brief struggle, I was able to secure him to a chair. The Family wanted his throat cut, so I was just pulling out the knife, when I turned around to see the girl in her pajamas come out of her room. She must've been 7 or 8. Seeing the distress in her father's face, she started crying. He told her to go back to her room ("Go on, pumpkin. Daddy's fine. Go to your room and pull the covers right up over your head. Do that for daddy") but she didn't move. I grabbed her and shoved her screaming into her room and shut the door. I came straight back and finished the job. As I turned around to wipe the knife, there she was again, staring wide-eyed at her father's now hunched and bleeding body. She started to scream and I dragged her back into her room—this time putting something heavy in front of the door. I should've stayed and taken the body, but rather uncharacteristically, I panicked and bolted out the door. (to E) I've never forgotten that moment—seeing you standing there—it has haunted me. That night was the end of it for me—I swore I'd never do another job."

Emily: "I'm so happy that my seeing you slit my father's throat had such a profound affect on your life. Ok, not happy so much as 'couldn't give a fuck'."

Miranda: "How do you intend to do it?"

Emily: "You know, I have given it quite a lot of thought and though I've gone back and forth a number of times, I think I'm just going to go for simplicity and slit your throat just the same—'cept maybe a bit slower."

Miranda: "It won't work."

Emily: "Interesting—haven't heard that one before."

Miranda: "You've talked to Eddie—He must've told you stories about how hard I am to kill. Fantastic sounding stories. They're all true. I'm a different sort of person. It's not the Oil of Olay that's kept me young."

Emily: "What, so you're telling me I can't kill you? That's rich."

Miranda: "Don't be silly. You can kill me, but you need to know exactly how. We can go the trial and error route, but I'm guessing you don't have the time."

Emily: "Sounds fun—I'm not in any hurry"

Miranda: "You know we're still missing one of our crew—he's likely come and gone and will at any moment bring a police swat team. Time is short."

Emily: "Well, then maybe I'll just kill your friends—I'm guessing they die in the usual ways." (She walks menacingly over towards Cordelia.)

Miranda: "No need to get shirty, I'm going to tell you how."

Angel: (giving her the 'what the hell are you doing' look) "uh, Miranda?"

Emily: "If?"

Miranda: "Let them all go. Give me your word they'll be safe and I'll give you complete instructions. You won't get satisfaction if I live and they die."

Angel: (under his breath) "Miranda...what do you think you're doing?"

Emily: "How do I know if you'll tell me the truth? How will I know if you're faking?"

Miranda: "Let's just say, there'll be fireworks when it's finished—it will be quite clear that I'm dead."

Emily: (to thug#1, indicating Gunn and Cordy) "Drive them out to the desert and leave them. (to Miranda, indicating Angel) He stays until you tell me." (Miranda nods—the thugs take Gunn and Cordy out.)

Miranda: "Go downstairs to the room at the bottom—inside, you'll find a sword tucked behind the dresser. Bring it up and I'll tell you the rest." (E goes with one of the thugs)

Angel: "You're not really going to..."

Miranda: (with deeply saddened eyes) "It's alright, Angel. I don't have any excuses. This is what I deserve."

Angel: "Um, no. That's not how it works around here."

Miranda: "Isn't it?"

E comes back with the sword.

Emily: (admiring it) "It's heavy. You could do some serious damage with this. Let's give it a try, eh?" (and with that, she drives the sword into Angel's abdomen.)

Angel: "Ow"

Miranda: "Ok, that was entirely uncalled for. This isn't the time to be pissing me off."

Emily: (to Thugs) "Take him out back—don't think he'll give us much trouble now. (they start to move him out) And…?"

Angel: (looking a bit panicked) "Miranda, don't do it. It's not over—there's still time."

Miranda: (when he's been taken out the door) "It's pathetically simple, really, you just need to..."

Suddenly the front door bursts open and there is, indeed, a SWAT team along with Wes and Gunn (Cordelia is waiting outside). The thugs start shooting at them and the police shoot back. In desperation, Emily starts to drive the sword into Miranda's chest, but then gets hit by a number of bullets and falls over. In the chaos, Miranda is struggling to get free of the chair that's she's tied to. She gets free of it, but her hands and feet are still tied. She starts inching her way over to Emily, who is now on her back, spitting blood. More gunfire and general mayhem. Angel comes through the door. He immediately goes over to Miranda to see if she's OK.

Miranda: (to Angel; a touch of desperation in her voice) "Can you see if she's still alive? Is she breathing?"

Angel: (peering the few feet to Emily's body) "Barely—she won't be getting up."

Miranda: "Quickly, bring me to her."

Angel: "Why?"

Miranda: "Now! I might be able to help her, but I need to be closer."

Confused, he does as she asks. He unties her hands and she's now kneeling beside Emily's body, leaning in close to her face. She puts her hand over Emily's eyes and we can see that she is saying something over the body, but can't hear over the gunfire. The fighting calms down and the others gather around Miranda & Emily's now dead body. After a moment, Miranda sits back on her knees, no longer speaking. Angel looks towards Wesley.

Angel: "Did you hear what she was saying?"

Wesley: "Sounded like Latin, but I couldn't make out the words."

The police come and carry off the bodies. Angel and Miranda (looking morose), move off to one side and bandage each other while the others talk with police and each other. Miranda notices Cordelia glance over towards her, say something to Wesley and then he turns to look at her—it's obvious they're filling him in on what happened.

Angel: "What were you doing back there?"

Miranda: "Oh, I don't know. Some religious mumbo-jumbo that a priest taught me once. At the time, he said I could lighten someone's soul with it—that I could take on their mortal sin for them, so they wouldn't be held down by it in death. He said it was my gift. Probably complete and utter bollocks, but I couldn't think of what else to do."

Angel: "You weren't really going to let her kill you (?)"

Miranda: (not answering, she looks away) "I'm going downstairs."

After five or ten minutes, Angel heads down to check on Miranda. He finds her stuffing her clothes in a bag.

Miranda: (explaining) "I'll go. I saw the way they looked at me. They don't want me here."

Angel: "No. It was just a shock—they'll adjust."

Miranda: "To living with a cold-blooded killer? I doubt it."

Angel: "They've been working with me for years."

Miranda: "But you were different when you did those things. I wasn't. I was just...confused. It's too ambiguous for them."

Angel: "It'll take some time to win back their trust, but it will happen. Don't underestimate them—they're good people."

Miranda: "Isn't that the point? They are 'good' people. I'm not sure that I deserve their trust. I'll go."

Angel: "Now you're starting to sound like me. Listen, you can't give up on this at the first sign of trouble. This is where the whole redemption thing gets hard."

Miranda: (sigh) "My shame over my past behavior doesn't match their horror at it—If they knew that, they'd insist I go."

Angel: "Miranda, you can't go. I need you."

Miranda: (She considers this for a moment—looking deeply into his face with a thoughtful frown) "No, I don't think you do. Not anymore."

Angel: "I love you."

Miranda: (She doesn't have a reply to this and she stops packing. Teary.) "Maybe I don't have to leave town—I could get a proper hotel room or an apartment. Maybe if I weren't living here..."

Angel: "I'll call a meeting—we'll talk about it. Tomorrow. I'll get donuts." (She flashes a quick smile)

He steps towards her and takes the bag out of her hand and sets it down. He continues to hold onto her hand as he pulls her towards him gently. She rests her head against his chest.

End flashback.


	27. Chapter 27

Scene 13

The present. Back in the hotel room.

Miranda: "I should've just left then. Maybe. But the guilt was back suddenly—the past was back. How did it change from a trick—a game, to reality? (snapping out of her monolog for a moment; looking a bit more emotional than she has up till now) Can I have a cigarette?"

He promptly pulls one out of the pack on the nightstand and lights it for her. She takes it and sits up a bit more. A few minutes pass as she smokes. A few more minutes pass. Spike starts to look a bit impatient—maybe the tiniest bit concerned.

Spike: "I'm guessing that's not the end, because there definitely hasn't been a punch line. You gonna get on with it? (she nods, but looks a bit teary.) What's wrong?"

Miranda: "It's just...we're getting to the part you won't like."

Spike: (skeptical) "Oh, because the rest of it's been a barrel of laughs."

Miranda: (takes a deep breath and gives him a 'you aint seen nothin' yet' look. He promptly gets a cigarette out for himself) "So Angel talked them all down the next day. They asked me questions. I gave them answers. They judged. We had donuts. Things went on—just as usual, if you didn't look too close. It's funny, because just as the others pushed me to the periphery, Angel pulled me in tighter. (she shrugs) He was nice. He treated me well. I felt more comfortable than I had before. More time passed—the usual misadventures came and went. One night, we were on our way to a job. I have to admit that I hadn't listened terribly closely to the details Wesley gave out before we left. Something about security for some guy who was going up against Wolfram and Hart—like a mob boss testifying for the FBI. It was a pretty big deal, I guess, and W&H were scared enough to bring out the big guns to take him out. Our job, of course, was to keep him alive while he was in L.A. That night, we were on our way to meet with him and his men to discuss security at an upcoming event that he insisted on attending during his stay. It seemed ridiculous to me that anyone would risk going to a bloody party when Evil Incarnate is after you, but there was some explanation that I've since forgotten. We arrive at the meeting point, to find a fight already in progress. We all jumped into the mayhem and things got a bit confused—wasn't exactly easy to tell who was on which side. In the midst of it all, I hear a voice that's familiar. I turn to see where it's coming from and I see a face that causes my entire body to go rigid. I can't move. I realize I'm not breathing. It was the man from the picture—remember that night in Sunnydale? It was him and I was frozen just like in the dream. I was terrified."

Begin flashback

Fighting mayhem. Wesley, Gunn, Angel and Miranda are fighting the cronies sent by W&H to grab/kill the snitch—the guy's personal security force are also in the mix, so it's a fairly big crowd of people fighting each other. Miranda suddenly stops dead, staring at one of the men in the crowd. After a minute, Angel notices and seeing someone coming at her, he calls out. Hearing her name, she turns and inhales sharply, gasping for air. She snaps out of it just in time to brush off the attacker and now that she's moving, she turns back to the man that had transfixed her before. Now there is determination and fire in her eyes as she starts to make her way towards him. She looks more manic with every step and pounces on him (he didn't see her coming). She instantly starts to beat the crap out of him—he fights back, but she is wild in her attack and is able to knock him down easily. Soon, she has got him on his back and she is punching him hard. Wesley looks over and sees what's happening. They've taken care of most of the cronies at this point, so the fight is slowing down.

Wesley: "Miranda, No! That's who we're _protecting_. (She either doesn't hear him or doesn't listen. She stops punching for just a moment to pull out her sword and is about to slice him when Wesley calls out) Angel, stop her!"

Just as she is bringing her sword around, Angel grabs her hand to stop her.

Miranda: (seething) "Let go."

Angel: "Didn't you hear Wes? (indicating the man on the ground) He's not one of the bad guys."

She looks confused for a second and not trusting the look in her eye, Angel actually takes her sword away and grabs hold of her arm. The man, though hurt, gets up quickly.

Miranda: (a moment's pause and then renewed determination) "Yesheis" (As she says this, she kicks Angel away. She lunges forward, too quick for anyone to stop her. She pushes the man back up against the wall (outside of a building) and pulls out two daggers hooked to her belt. She twirls them and then makes as if she is going to put one in each of the man's eyes. She whispers) "I knew I should've taken your eyes."

Angel calls out.

Angel: "Miranda, don't!"

Instead of driving the daggers into his eyes, Miranda pulls them to the side at the last possible moment and drives them into the wall on either side of his head. She steps away, angrily. His men move protectively to help him. She stalks back towards A, W & G.

Gunn: "What the hell was that about? (to Angel) I think maybe your girl's got some anger issues."

Miranda: (Seething—she is beside herself with anger and frustration. She can barely from words) "He's not human."

Wesley: "They'd asked me not to mention that, but you're right."

Angel: (to Miranda) "How did you know?"

Miranda: "I killed him once."

Gunn: "Here we go again. Was that before or after the highschooler?"

Angel: (warning) "Gunn"

Miranda: "He's evil."

Wesley: (skeptical) "That may be the case, but he's taking on W&H and there was no indication from the file that he's particularly dangerous. According to my sources, it would seem he's lived a rather peaceful life."

Gunn: (bitter) "This some sort of personal vendetta?"

Miranda: (unfathomable) "You don't believe me? But he..." (she stops)

Angel: "You're shaking." (He goes to touch her arm and she bats it away.)

Wesley: (trying to be helpful) "Perhaps you're simply confusing him with someone else."

Miranda: "I have to go. I can't..."

She reaches out for her sword, which is on the ground near Angel's feet. It seems to jump into her hand when she's still about an inch away. She slips it into the holder in her coat and stomps off. She hops on a motorcycle and speeds away. Angel walks/calls after her, but she has none of it.

The gang discuss what just happened. Angel asks Wesley to double-check his sources to make sure the man they're protecting isn't a threat. Afterwards, they apologize profusely to the man and promise it was all a big misunderstanding. They get down to business and discuss plans for the upcoming event and then head back to the hotel. Angel is hoping that Miranda will be there. She isn't.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Caritas, sometime later. Miranda comes in and goes straight to the bar. She's got some very old books with her that she is leafing through. She orders a bottle of whiskey. Her hands are shaking as she lifts the glass. After a few minutes and as many drinks, we see her flinch. She looks around with weary eyes. She sees a young punk (maybe 20) scanning the bar. She calls over to him: "You're looking for me, I suppose." He's an Immortal and had heard a rumor that she sometimes came into this bar. He tries to pick a fight with her. She tells him she won't fight him—she's not in the mood and he's far too young and inexperienced anyway and doesn't he want to live for a while yet? He's annoyed at this and gets belligerent as young punks do. She complains to Lorne and asks to have him thrown out. Lorne complies and then promptly makes a call to Angel.

Lorne: "Yeah, I think you might want to get down here. Let's just say, Miranda isn't her usual over-the-rainbow self—she's back at the ranch and from the looks of her, Toto's already been hauled off in the witch-mobile. I've never seen an aura turn completely black before—it's kinda freaking me out."

Angel leaves for Caritas. But before he gets there, Miranda gets up to go. She's rather drunk. She picks up her sword on the way out and is met at the door by the annoying young punk. He tries to get her to fight and she repeatedly brushes him off (physically and verbally). She knocks him back into a dumpster and starts to walk away when he comes up from behind and stabs her in the back—she looks down and sees the blade come through her right side. "bloody hell". He pulls it out and is standing ready to fight when she turns around. In no more than three moves, she knocks him down. Instead of taking his head, she just stabs him through the heart and leaves him. She's not feeling any pain, though her wound is bleeding profusely. Next, we see her walk into the hotel. She's wearing all black, so the bleeding is not immediately apparent. Wes, Gunn and Cordy are still there—Angel had asked them to stick around until he'd found Miranda. Without saying a word, Miranda stumbles up to the front desk and throws one of the old books down (in front of Wesley) and opens it to a marked page and points to a picture as if to say 'aha!'. It's fairly obvious that she's still out-of-sorts.

Cordelia: (looking at the book) "This is from the reference section of the library—you are _so_ not supposed to check those out."

Wesley: "The Sultan of Bengal. Certainly there's a resemblance. You think it's him?"

Miranda: "I know it's him."

Wesley: "But it gives the whole lineage of his family here—father, brothers, uncles. Look, it says here he had 22 sons. It's unlikely that he was a demon so meticulously entrenched at that time."

Miranda: (voice shaky) "I don't know how, just what. Did you get a good look at him? Read on."

Wesley: (he reads and then summarizes) "He was murdered at the age of 42. He was found with his throat slit and his right hand missing. The murder was blamed on a disgruntled servant, who was subsequently executed. His twin brother took over power the next month."

Miranda: "He didn't have a twin brother."

Wesley: "So what if it is him. I haven't found any indication..." (she doesn't let him finish)

Miranda: (frustrated) "Maybe the things he does are not the kinds of things history takes notice of. We can't take the job."

Wesley: "I'm sorry, Miranda, but we already have. Even if he is the man with whom you have a history..."

Miranda: "If?"

Cordelia: "He said he'd never seen you before—he seemed very sincere and concerned for you."

Miranda: (She lets out a sort of a whimper. They don't believe her.) "He hurt me."

Wesley: (some sincere sympathy) "How?"

Miranda: (disbelief) "Does it matter?"

She starts looking even more upset and slightly manic. Wesley steps towards her and moves to put his hand on her shoulder. But just as he reaches out, she recoils away like a frightened animal. Gunn steps up.

Gunn: "Maybe you should sit down—you don't look so good. (noticing something) What happened to your face?"

There's a small, bleeding cut on her cheek. He grabs a small piece of gauze bandage from the table and moves toward her (to wipe the blood away) and she recoils from him as well.

Miranda: "An Immortal—tried to pick a fight with me. Just a kid."

Cordelia: (with a touch of attitude) "So did ya' kill him?"

Miranda just scowls.

Miranda: (voice shaking again) "I won't protect him—he deserves death." (She walks slowly away, towards Angel's room.)

Cordelia: (noticing something) "Hey is it raining? Her clothes look wet." (Miranda just keeps walking.)

30 minutes later or so, Angel returns to the hotel.

Angel: "She'd already left by the time I got there."

Cordelia: "She's upstairs. Can I go now?"

Angel: "Did you find out anything about our client? Anything that might explain Miranda's..."

Gunn: "Going off the deep end? That girl is seriously wigged about something."

Wesley: "Nothing new. Miranda may have found something. (indicating the book) I don't know what it proves exactly, but..." (before he has a change to finish, an odd look crosses Angel's face)

Angel: "She's bleeding. A lot." (He rushes upstairs)

Cordelia: (to herself) "Duh, it was blood, not water. What was I thinking? This is L.A."

Upstairs. Miranda has locked herself in the bathroom. Angel knocks on the door. He hears water running. She doesn't answer. View from inside the bathroom. Miranda is sitting in a clawfoot tub—she's holding her knees and is fully clothed. The shower is on low and the tub has filled about halfway with water. The water is red with her blood. She has her sword lying across the bathtub in front of her (i.e., between her knee caps and her head). She is rocking slowly and completely oblivious to Angel's knocking. Her skin is very white and her lips are almost blue. After a few more increasingly forceful pleas from Angel (which go unacknowledged), he breaks open the door. When this happens, Miranda quickly wraps her arms over her head (as if she's assuming the crash position) and starts to whimper and rock more quickly.

Angel: "God, Miranda—what happened? The water's freezing. Let's get you out of there."

He reaches to grab her arm and she recoils away from him.

Miranda: "Don't touch me. (beat) Please don't."

Angel: "It's just me. It's Angel. (no change) Okay. Okay, I'll just turn off the water and pull the plug."

He moves slowly, as any sudden movement from him invokes a frightened whimper and sob from her.

Miranda: (not really talking to Angel—almost mumbling to herself manically. She's breathing in little gasps) "He's coming. Have to be ready this time. (beat) Aw, but I'm not. Sometimes I can't move. (turns to Angel, but it is not clear that she sees him) I don't remember how to hold it (indicating her sword) (she starts reacting to things that aren't there—she is reliving the past) Sylvie?" (then she tenses up again and covers her head with her arms)

Angel: "Miranda? Look at me. There's no one else here. Just you and me."

Miranda: "But he's coming to take me away again. Just like before. It all has to be justlikebefore. (intonation change) Sylvie, why don't you open the windows—it's such a nice day." (sobbing and rocking)

Angel gets closer and kneels by the tub. It's obvious she is mentally in another place. He gently touches her cheek—she doesn't flinch this time. He turns her head to face him.

Angel: "Stay with me, Miranda. Who am I? Focus now. Who am I?"

Miranda: (she blinks; in a whisper) "Angel."

Angel: "No one's going to take you away."

Miranda: "Yes. I have to be ready. I don't know how. I hear them. Sylvie? I'm so sorry." (She grasps the blade of her sword from above.)

Angel: "Who's Sylvie? Tell me what happened." (He gently pulls her hands away from the sword—she's cutting herself.)

Miranda: (still manic/crying) They killed her. Sylvie was my maid—my best friend. (pause) Then I saw her. They dragged me from the bath. Everything was rushing past and I didn't know what was happening. Then she was there. So much blood. I was just taking my Sunday bath. They didn't have to kill her—she couldn't've stopped them."

Angel: "shhh. It's Okay. If we're going to be ready, you have to let me bandage your wound."

Miranda: "Am I bleeding?"

Angel: "Yeah. Looks like you were stabbed. What happened?"

Miranda: "I don't remember. (pause) I'm so afraid."

Angel: "I'll protect you; it'll be alright. Lets get you out of those wet clothes."

Miranda: (frantic) "No. No, I can't be naked when they come."

Angel: "Okay. I'll get some dry clothes and be right back."

She nods. He goes out into their room, gets a blanket and some clothes and comes back in. He gets the exact same reaction as when he came in the first time—she has completely reverted back. He gently talks her down and is able to put the blanket around her and pull her from the tub. He changes her clothes and bandages her wound. She is catatonic throughout.

Miranda: (weary) "You won't let him take me?"

Angel: "Never." (she nods)

Miranda: (seeming a bit more with it.) "Will you kill him for me?"

Angel: "We don't even know it's him. We'll talk about it once you've rested."

He lifts her up to carry her into the bedroom—she's rigid as a board. She reaches up and locks her arms tightly around his neck. He moves to set her on the bed, but she won't let go of him. So he lies down himself with her (actually, he's sitting up with his legs out—she's curled up on him, with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.)

Angel: "God, you're still shaking. What...?" (She shakes her head, indicating that she doesn't want to talk about it. They just sit like that for hours. At some point, he feels her body loosen a bit and her breathing become more regular. He strokes her hair.) Do you want some tea to warm you up? I'm not much good for that."

Miranda: "Yes, please."

He moves to get up and put the kettle on, but she still won't let go of him, so he just carries her around with him as he makes the tea. She does actually, release him when she goes to drink her tea, but she keeps one hand around his neck.

Miranda: (after a few minutes) "It was an Immortal who stabbed me. He was trying to pick a fight."

Angel: "Yeah, Lorne mentioned someone was bothering you. Let me have a look. (He peeks at the bandage) It's still bleeding a bit."

Miranda: "Sometimes if I'm upset, I don't heal properly."

Angel: "Do you want to talk about it?"

Miranda: (her body starts to go rigid again) "Not yet. I think I can sleep now. Promise to not let go?"

Angel: "Promise."

They both sleep for a bit. Soon it's morning and the others arrive back at the hotel. They sheepishly knock on the door to Angel and Miranda's room. Angel quietly gets up from the bed and answers the door.

Cordelia: "Yeah, um. How are things?"

Wesley: "We need to talk about this evening."

Angel: "Give me a few minutes?" (they agree to come back in 10 minutes. By the time Angel gets back to the bed, Miranda is waking up.) I need to talk about some things with the others, so I'm going to go downstairs for a few minutes."

Miranda: (taking this in, she starts to tense up) "Can you bring them up here? I'll take a shower and you can talk in the other room." (she gives him serious puppy-dog eyes)

Angel: "Ok, that will work. Do you need help getting up?"

Miranda: "hm. I think I'm Ok."

After a few minutes, she gets up and goes into the bathroom. The others come into the room and they start the meeting.

Angel: (he's pacing) "So how important is this guy we're protecting, anyway?"

Wesley: "Based on what we know, he has the power to strike a serious blow to the source of Wolfram and Hart's power. If things go well, he might actually sever the ties between the firm and the senior partners. So I would say, very important."

Angel: "Miranda's terrified of him. Absolutely terrified. She refuses to talk about it. All I know is she spent the last 8 hours clinging so tightly to my neck that if had circulation, she would've been cutting it off."

Cordelia: (skeptical) "Miranda, terrified. How surprisingly un-butch."

Gunn: "I hate to say it, but you sure it wasn't an act? She sure didn't look terrified last night when she was pummeling his ass."

Angel: "Believe me, I know fear. At the very least, we can't have her involved with this job."

Cordy makes a sort of sigh/moan-y sound.

Angel: "What?"

Wesley: "Yes, well, Mr. Smith, as we've taken to calling him, just phoned to request that Miranda be his primary guardian at the event tomorrow. As she was the one who almost killed him last night, he feels that her having had the opportunity and then not taking it means that she can be trusted above all others. He was rather insistent."

Angel: "Out of the question."

Cordelia: "But there is one teeny weeny detail that Wesley failed to mention..."

Miranda: (appearing from the shower in a robe) "How much did he offer to pay?"

Angel: "What? Miranda, why don't you lie down in the bedroom—we'll be done here in a minute."

Miranda: (to Wes) "He offered you a bonus in exchange for my services. How much?"

Wesley: "Does it matter?"

Miranda: "I'd guess an extra $40,000; no wait $39,000."

Wesley: (shocked) "How did you know?"

Miranda: (bitter laugh) "He once told me only a fool would spend more money on a woman than a horse—at the time, he'd just spend 40 gold pieces on a prize stallion."

Angel: "Call him back and decline the offer."

Miranda: "So you're going ahead with it. You're going to protect him."

Wesley: "We'll take every precaution. Whatever he's done in the past, we need him now." (Everyone is looking at Angel)

Angel: "We do what we agreed to do—Miranda stays out of it."

Miranda: (she shudders and then takes a deep breath) "No, I'll do it."

Angel: "What?"

Miranda: (desperately trying to regain control of herself) "I'll be his date tomorrow night. But I have two conditions."

Gunn: "Anyone else see the flaw in this plan?"

Wesley: "What are your conditions?"

Miranda: "Tell Angel how to kill him. I need to know that he can protect me if necessary."

Wesley: "Sounds reasonable. And?"

Miranda: "And Cordelia sits this one out."

Cordelia: "Hey! I'm not missing the party."

Miranda: (dead serious) "Cordelia stays away from him."

Wesley: "I think that can be arranged."

Angel: (to Miranda) "You sure you want to do this?"

Miranda: "Not in the least, but that's life, isn't it? What's that line about keeping your enemies closer?" (a touch of bitterness)

xxxxxxxxxxx

Miranda prepares herself for the next night. She still refuses to talk about the details of her experience with the sultan. She's very quiet, determined and withdrawn as she gets ready—she doesn't say more than a few words to anyone. She chooses a very sexy red dress—it has an open neckline. She wears a matching choker necklace that has bits of red colored glass that hang down the front and the back of her neck—they resemble drops of blood. She puts a dark rinse in her hair, straightens it and goes a little extreme with dark eyeliner and red lipstick. Of course, she has a multitude of weapons hidden under her skirt. They go to the party. The first and only thing she says to him is: "There's only one rule tonight. You don't touch me. You touch me, you lose your other hand." Everything is going according to plan. He pretends not to know her whenever they're in front of anyone—she tries to bait him a couple of times, but he doesn't succumb. There is music. At one point he unexpectedly pulls her to the dance floor—they're surrounded by other guests, so she can't make a scene. He's touching her and you can see her revulsion mixed with terror. She clenches her teeth and refuses to look at Angel, who is keeping an eye on them from a balcony above. It's taking everything she has to hide her fear. Just as the song is ending, he whispers in her ear.

Sultan: "Funny how things stay the same—every woman has her price. But I have to wonder, will I get what I paid for this time?"

She doesn't respond and breaks away from him. She's afraid that if she says anything, she'll lose it. Shortly thereafter, there is some sort of incident (attempt on the Sultan's life), which they successfully avert. The party is over. The last part of their obligation is to deliver him (and his men) to the docks, where a boat is waiting to pick him up. They arrive at the drop point. Miranda is obviously very cross that he hasn't made a move or given anything away—she wanted him to reveal something so the others wouldn't think she was making it all up. Wesley gave her some throwaway comment about things going very smoothly. Miranda, Angel, Gunn and the Sultan get out of the limo (Wes stays inside)—the other men are arriving in a second car. Angel walks out towards the dock to make sure it's all clear. The Sultan starts to speak to Miranda in a language that no-one else understands.

Sultan: (translation) "One thing I've always wondered. What did you do with my ring? I thought perhaps you'd sell it—you could have asked any price. But my men weren't able to track it down. Maybe you still have it?"

Miranda: (very bitter) "I spit on it and threw it in the sea along with your hand."

Sultan: "Defiant 'till the end. Gives me chills. Oh, but I have a present for you. For being a good little girl and obeying your boss and lover tonight."

He pulls a necklace out of his pocket and holds it up so that she can see the pendant. She glances at it, skeptically, but when her eyes fix on it, she has a flash of recognition. We see what she sees, which is a vision of a beautiful dark-haired woman, smiling at her, wearing that pendant around her neck.

Miranda: (she mutters) "Isabella." (then it hits her what this means)

Sultan: (once he sees that she recognizes the pendant, his voice changes to one of anger and disdain) "You thought you could take her from me, you worthless whore? She was mine. You hid well, but I found her. It disgusts me that you dared touch her in that way. She had to be punished. I had hoped to have her watch you die, but I had to settle for her pathetic husband."

As Miranda takes this in, she hears herself telling the story to her new friends: ("Tara: "Did you ever see her again?" Miranda: "No. By the time I returned to Europe, I decided to just let it pass. She did promise to name her first daughter after me and so I took much pleasure in envisioning a dark-haired, dark-skinned Miranda running about the Italian countryside." Angel: "You're daughter's name was Isabella" Miranda: (nodding) "Hm. Yes. I thought it only fair to have a pasty-skinned, freckled, Isabella in return") Now she's struck with the fact that Isabella never made it to Italy—there was never a little Miranda. She had spent so many hours over the years dreaming of the beauty and simplicity of Isabella's life—those thoughts had comforted her so many times. Now Isabella didn't have a life. This realization utterly crushes her. She can't move. She can't speak. There is the distinct look of defeat in her eyes. Seeing this, the Sultan smiles and leans forward to secure the necklace around her neck. He even kisses her on the cheek. She doesn't move or react. Her eyes are dead.

Sultan: (seeing the defeat in her eyes) "Ah. So easy this time. Finally, my money's worth."

Angel comes back and he can see that something is very wrong. The Sultan takes a few steps away and chats with his bodyguards.

Angel: (to Miranda) "You Ok?"

Miranda: (mumbles) "He's won. It's over."

Angel: "What? Hang in there—he'll be out of our lives as soon as we get him on that boat."

Angel walks towards the Sultan and Miranda slides down the side of the limo and sits on the ground—she stares at nothing off in the distance. Angel starts escorting the men towards the dock. The men are talking/joking around in the same language that the Sultan had just been using to speak to Miranda. Angel is a step behind them—he starts to have a concerned look on his face.

BG (bodyguard):(translated) "You don't want her?"

Sultan: "Nah. She's of no interest to me. The fun is in the breaking. Same with horses. Now she's only flesh."

BG: "Maybe, but I can imagine that flesh could keep us all amused for a bit—we may be at sea for a time."

Sultan: "I'll admit that the color of her dress suits her. (remembering) There was nothing quite like the sight of blood dribbling down her pale white skin—(evil grin) even better between her thighs. You know, blood makes a fine lubricant." (The bodyguards laugh)

Angel: (casual & friendly tone) "Uh, guys. Hold up a minute. (They stop and turn around, looking mildly annoyed at the interruption.) I've been meaning to mention that I've spent some time in your part of the world over the years—it's really quite lovely; great architecture. (They just give him a 'so what' shrug) Yeah, quite lovely. (He draws his sword) And such an interesting language—never thought I'd pick it up, but I guess I just had an ear for it."

Switch to Miranda's/the limo's perspective.

Gunn: "Uh, Wes. I think we may have a problem."

Miranda looks over just in time to see Angel slice the Sultan in half with the sword. He then quickly dispatches the bodyguards and pulls a powder out of his pocket, which he sprinkles on the body. He says a few words and 'poof', the body turns to ash. He walks quickly back to the limo, pulls Miranda up and hugs her.

Angel: (whispers in her ear) "I'm so sorry."

Gunn: "Yeah, we definitely have a problem. Someone should call Cordy and tell her not to bother with the invoice."

Angel: "We should get out of here. He's got men on the boat."

Wesley: "What happened?"

Angel: "I'll explain later. Let's just go."

It's obvious Wes is angry. He exchanges a look with Gunn. They get in the limo and drive off. It's all very silent on the ride back to the hotel. Once they're safely away, Miranda inconspicuously takes hold of Angel's hand and squeezes it. He looks over and they lock eyes for a moment—She flashes him a quick smile of gratitude.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning. Angel and Miranda are still in bed, drinking tea.

(Writer's note: When I came up with this part of the Miranda's backstory, I was a bit confused about the timing of it (it was before I'd seen FFL, I think, and so I was thinking that she and Spike were older). So anyway, it doesn't actually make much sense in terms of historical setting, but I ask that you just suspend your disbelief.)

Miranda: "I was a courtesan, but I refused him. I had been successful enough to be able to choose my partners by that point. It was the only position of power a woman could have in those days. The only way to be free. Or so I thought."

Angel: "You don't have to..."

Miranda: "It's alright. I'd like you to know. (continuing) He was angry. He bought someone off who told him where to find me—I think it must have been one of my regulars. I was a very stubborn girl. He had a harem, like men of his country did and I was added to it. I continued to refuse him. He had me beaten. At first, I thought it was simply punishment for my defiance. But things started to change. Soon it wasn't about getting me to dress and act like the others—getting me to lay back and not fight—it was more than that. My defiance spurred him on. He seemed to beat me for the sake of it. I remember thinking that if he hated me so much, as he said, why didn't he just kill me? Then I'd be free—not that he knew that, of course. But he always stopped just short of death. He knew exactly how far he could go—he'd done this before. Of course, with my ability to heal, he pushed it further and further. But still, he never quite crossed the line. Things became more psychological. He liked to see my reaction when he hurt people in front of me. He convinced me it was my doing—my punishment. Little girls, mostly. Sometimes they died. His servants? Maybe his own daughters. The record said he had 22 sons—but what happened to all the girls? They didn't care about them at that time, in that place—women and girls were worthless. God, why was I so stubborn? But he wouldn't let me fake it—you can't fake being broken. He wanted to draw it out as long as possible. I was terrified because I knew no one would ever look for me or rescue me—he could torture me forever and there was nothing I could do. Back then, I didn't even know how to hold a sword properly—I couldn't fight back."

Angel: "How long?"

Miranda: "Six months—about. Is that pathetic? You were in hell for 100 years and I couldn't take six months without it reducing me to a blubbering idiot. The thing is, I'd never known evil before—at least not that kind of evil. I didn't know people like him existed. I couldn't comprehend that someone could simply enjoy watching someone else suffer at their hand. I was so naïve. In the end, I was able to convince one of the guards to take pity on me and end my suffering. I'm sure he was punished for it. I climbed my way out of the pit they threw me in and snuck back into his palace. Just as I'd never known evil before, I'd never known the kind of hatred and rage I felt towards him. He'd awoken something in me I didn't know existed—I enjoyed watching him die."

Angel: "It's over now."

Miranda just gives him a knowing look as if to say "is it?"—she'd changed because of what happened and there was never any going back from there. Later on, Angel tries to explain to the others why he ended up killing the Sultan. They sort of understand, but the danger had already past and there was still no evidence that he'd got up to his old tricks again. Whatever. After the fact, they'd been able to find out that he had, as a human, made some sort of pact with a tribe of demons who promised to make him immortal in exchange for something or other. So he was human before she killed him and a demon when he was brought back.

tbc...


	28. Chapter 28

Scene 14

Present day, back in the hotel room. Miranda is continuing her story.

Miranda: "Things were different after that. I felt safe. Maybe that is what happiness is. Mainly, I felt closer to him—there was a warmth that wasn't there before. It was the feeling that was supposed to go along with the vision the priest had shown me—it seemed attainable. (Her voice is starting to shake a bit. She doesn't look at Spike at all during this part.) I started to think ahead. We talked about getting an apartment nearby—a place with a proper kitchen. Cordelia and I did some browsing around the local area during the days. Time passed. (deep breath) Then one day I found something I liked."

Begin flashback

Angel is sitting on a couch, reading a book. Miranda comes in and sits down next to him. She's smiling.

Miranda: "Good book?"

Angel: (He glances up, but keeps reading.) "It's getting there."

Miranda: (Impatient, she glances at the title) "She lives. The uncle murdered the stable boy. She doesn't marry him and nobody lives happily ever after."

Angel: (mock annoyed, he closes the book) "Someday, I'm going to find a book you haven't read."

Miranda: "Unlikely."

Angel: "Hm. (looking at her more closely) Did you just run up the stairs?"

Miranda: "No." (She's got a real 'I've got a secret' grin on her face.)

Angel: (suspicious) "What's that look? I'm supposed to have noticed something, right? Haircut? Shoes?"

Miranda: "No."

Angel: (He can't help but grin back) "So what's with the Cheshire grin?"

Miranda: "Hm. I like it when you smile. (beat) Maybe I've got something to tell you."

Angel: (guessing) "Did you and Cordy find a place?"

Miranda: "We did. I can arrange with the landlord for you to see it tomorrow night."

Angel: "I don't need to see it. I'm sure if you like it, it'll be fine."

Miranda: "You sure you're alright with this? Moving away from the business?"

Angel: (Concerned) "How far is it?"

Miranda: "Only a few blocks. And you can always stay here if you feel you need to. (big smile) It's nice."

Angel: "Then I doubt I'll be able to stay away."

She moves over and straddles him on the couch—she puts her hands on his chest and he puts his hands on her hips.

Angel: "You sure you're OK? Your heart's beating kinda fast."

Miranda: (giggle) "I'm fine."

Angel: (a bit worried) "This isn't about the apartment, is it?" (not really a question.)

Miranda: "Nope. It's just that I wanted to tell you...that...I'm happy. Things are good." (She looks happy and relaxed.)

Angel: (He smiles and pushes the hair back from her face.) "You deserve to be happy."

Miranda: "Not really. Maybe. (pause) But I realized something else today. (A bit more serious—she looks straight at him.) Angel, I love you."

It is as if she is giving him something by telling him this. He looks at her for a moment as it sinks in. She leans in closer to whisper in his ear. He starts to look agitated.

Miranda: (Her lips just an inch from his left ear, she says softly again) "I love you." (And then smiles with a look of peaceful resignation.)

Back to the present

Miranda: "The next thing I remember is the feeling of his teeth biting into my neck. It was quite a shock—as I'd mentioned, not something we'd done, and this seemed a particularly inappropriate time to begin."

Flashback

Miranda: (in a weakening voice) "Too fast...too much..." (Her eyes flutter and she's out.)

Present

Miranda: "I was out cold. I woke up sometime later—maybe a couple of hours. He'd gone. I stumbled around looking for him, but couldn't go far because I was too weak. I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I decided to call Wesley to see if maybe he'd been called out on a job or something. I was very casual about it—he said he hadn't heard from him. He said he was on his way in—was having trouble sleeping (it was very early in the morning). I heard him arrive downstairs within the hour. I put on a scarf and some lipstick made my way down the steps."

Flashback

Wesley: "Still no word from him?"

Miranda: "Nah. He sometimes goes out when it's still dark and I've already gone to bed. He's probably just taking a walk."

Wesley: (sensing something is wrong) "Would you like me to call Gunn? He might've heard something."

Miranda: "Don't go to any trouble. I'm sure he'll turn up."

Wesley: "You don't look well; can I get you something?"

Miranda: "Perhaps a glass of water. I think I may have a touch of a fever—I do get bugs from time to time."

She is not covering her anxiety very well and he can see she's not being completely honest. He goes and pours her a glass of water and hands it to her. She takes a deep drink. She is holding her neck very straight.

Wesley: "I don't mean to pry, but did you and Angel have an argument?"

Miranda: "Not so much an argument exactly. (beat) Are we still friends, Wesley? Like before?"

Wesley: (He does actually pause a moment here to consider, after all that's happened.) "Yes. Yes, of course."

Miranda: "I'm afraid I may have gone a bit far. Men generally fear commitment, right?"

Wesley: "Often."

Miranda: "All this talk about apartments and the future—I think I may have spooked him a bit."

Wesley: "Doesn't sound like Angel. He loves you."

Miranda: "I don't know. One minute I was telling him how I felt and the next he was gone."

Wesley: "What did he say?"

Miranda: "Nothing. He just left. (getting a bit nervous) You know, I think I'll go upstairs and wait for him there. I'm quite tired." (She gets up, but then collapses. Wesley rushes over.)

Wesley: "You aren't well. And you're not telling me everything."

Miranda: "It's nothing."

Wesley: (looking at her more carefully now—seeing the scarf and the lipstick and her coloration) "He bit you, didn't he?"

Miranda: "Please, Wesley, I think he'd be mortified if anyone found out."

Wesley: (getting worried) "Tell me exactly what happened."

Miranda: "It isn't a big deal. Remember, Spike used to bite me."

Wesley: "But Angel never has." (He doesn't know this—he's guessing.)

Miranda: "No, never. (considering for a moment) I think he just lost control—he'd always refused when I'd offered before. It's a thing. (convincing herself) Yes, he must've let himself go for an instant and now feels ashamed and so doesn't want to see me. He took too much, too fast and I passed out—I'm sure he feels terribly about it. He hates to lose control."

Wesley: (deadly serious) "Tell me exactly what happened just before he bit you."

Miranda: (a bit embarrassed) "I don't see why it's relevant. (He gives her an insistent look) I'd just told him about the apartment...and...that I loved him. It must've been too much for him, see? Men—they chase you when they don't have you, then..."

Her voice trails off. She isn't convinced and despite herself, she's starting to cry. She can feel that something is very wrong.

Wesley: (deepening frown) "You're probably right. (He's just trying to placate her) Cold feet. Perhaps you should rest upstairs. I'll ask Cordelia to pick up some sports drink on her way in to work."

Miranda: (she nods) "Yes, I suppose I should rest. You'll get me if he calls?"

Wesley: "Of course." (He tries to force a smile, but it just looks creepy.)

Miranda: "Be sure to tell him I'm not angry. You know, if he asks."

Wes helps her up and she carefully starts to ascend the stairs. She looks like she is about to say something, but then decides against it and continues walking. As soon as she is out of sight, Wesley picks up the phone.

Wesley: "Is that Gunn? Sorry to wake you. Yes, I think you should come right over. We may have a situation."

He hangs up and then calls Cordelia and asks her to stop at the store on her way in. Flash forward about 30 minutes. Cordelia arrives.

Cordelia: "What's with the mug? You look like you've seen a ghost. And what's with the weapons inventory?"

Wesley: "Uh. Couldn't sleep."

Cordelia: "So you thought you'd come here and count swords and stakes? Cause that's not the tiniest bit gay."

Wesley: "You haven't heard from Angel this morning, by chance?"

Cordelia: "It's 6am—it's not even light out yet. (sarcasm) I mean, we used to stay up to all hours talking on the phone about hair and shopping, but we've had to cut back—phone bills and all."

Wesley: "Oh."

Cordelia: (getting the weird vibe) "What's wrong?"

Wesley: "Let's wait for Gunn."

Cordelia: "Fine. Here's your Gatorade, by the way. I had to go to that 24-hour mini-mart up the street. The cashier gives me the creeps—SO not human."

Wesley: "It's for Miranda."

Cordelia: "Oh." (starting to look suspicious) "'cause the last time I bought Gatorade for Miranda, she'd been kidnapped by vampires. (Wes is trying to look as casual as possible—not succeeding. She's putting things together.) So, you call me in to the office at some ungodly hour, presumably because of some emergency, Gunn's on his way, you're in the process of inventorying our assortment of vampire-killing weapons, Angel's missing, and...Miranda's been bitten. OHMYGOD. Please tell me my boss hasn't let his happy out."

Gunn: (coming through the door) "Who's happy?"

Wesley: "With any luck, no one."

Gunn: "Not usually the kind of thing I'd wish for—you people are seriously messed up, you know that?"

Cordelia: (to Wes) "So you _think _or you_ know _that he's reverted to 'the killer, formerly known as Angelus'. 'Cause if you know and you're just dilly-dallying around with these baby toys, then I'm going to be very annoyed. Followed by terrified and then there's a very good chance I may actually freak out."

Gunn: (looking at the spread of weapons on the floor) "Baby toys? Will someone please explain to the black man what's going on here, 'cause I'm getting that out-of-the-loop feeling I get when I'm out-of-the loop."

Cordelia: "Angel might be evil. We should call Buffy."

Wesley: "Let's not jump to any conclusions. I mean, the only thing we know for sure is that he bit Miranda and then took off. There could be any number of explanations."

They all just stand and look at each other nervously for a moment. Then simultaneously, they head for the pile of weapons and start urgently rummaging through them. They're so busy that they don't notice Angel walk in the front door. He stops a few feet in front of them.

Angel: "Hi."

They all look up. Wesley has a crossbow in one hand and a sword in another.

Wesley: "Oh, hello."

Angel: "I'm not...I didn't...I mean, it's still...It's just me."

Cordelia: "'me' Angel, or 'me' I'm-here-to-kill-you-all-with-a-smirk-because-I'm-evil-again?"

Angel: "I don't smirk."

Cordelia: (She drops the sword she was holding.) "It's him."

Wesley sheepishly tries to hide his armful of weapons.

Wesley: "Sorry. Didn't want to take any chances."

Angel: "You shouldn't. Ever. You found Miranda?"

Wesley: "She came down about an hour ago. (His expression lightens a bit.) Huh, so you're afraid of commitment. Didn't see that one coming."

Angel: (ignoring the last bit) "Is she OK?"

Wesley: "She's resting."

Angel: "Did she tell you what happened?"

Wesley: "As much as she remembers."

Angel: (He's quite out-of-sorts. He sits down and puts his elbows on his knees and rests his chin on his clasped hands.) "Out-of-the-blue, she just said it. She meant it. I could feel it start. All of a sudden, I had everything I wanted and I couldn't stop myself from feeling it. There wasn't any time to prepare. I panicked. I did the only thing I could think of that would definitely break the moment."

Wesley: "It obviously worked."

Angel: "This time."

Cordelia: "So let me get this straight—there was absolutely no sex of any kind involved in the almost-soul-losing moment. Interesting twist on the 'perfect happiness' motif. I think I may have a newfound respect for men."

Angel: "I need to talk to her. I need to explain."

Wesley: "How much does she know?"

Angel: "Uh. We hadn't actually..."

Cordelia: "She knows about the last time, right? With Buffy?"

Angel: (sheepish) "Well. It never really came up...exactly."

Cordelia: "huh"

Wesley: "I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to see her just yet. Perhaps you need some time to...uh...collect your thoughts."

Angel: (nodding agreement) "But I can't just leave her up there—she needs to know what's going on."

Cordelia: (genuinely sympathetic) "I'll go. (pause) Should I tell her everything?"

Angel frowns and then nods. Cordelia grabs the Gatorade and heads upstairs.

Some time later, Cordelia comes down the stairs. Everyone is just sitting around looking mope-y.

Angel: "How is she?"

Cordelia: "Alright, considering. I think. Hard to tell—she didn't say much. Well, except to ask why none of us had said anything before—why we hadn't warned her. It's funny, but I didn't have an answer. I mean, that's usually the first thing I tell anyone who shows the slightest interest in you. I seem to remember thinking about it, but why didn't I ever say anything? Weird."

Gunn: "And we all know it isn't your style to keep quiet like that."

Wesley: "But none of us said anything. What are the odds?"

Cordelia: "She had lunch with Buffy and she didn't say anything either. That's freaky."

Gunn: "You think there might be some sort of mojo pushing the odds in the right direction?"

Wesley: "It's possible, I suppose. But who would do such a thing?"

Gunn: "We did actually blow up a floor or two of Wolfram and Hart not too long ago. That tends to rub people the wrong way. Go figure."

Wesley: "Seems a bit too subtle to be their work. I'll look into it."

After talking with Wes and doing a bit of meditating, Angel decides it's time he talked to Miranda himself. It's now the late afternoon of that same day. He goes to find her in their room upstairs. When he comes into the room she stands up—she'd been sitting in one of the comfy chairs. There's a moment of silence.

Angel: "You're O.K.? I didn't mean to..." (He's talking about the biting.)

Miranda: (brushing it off) "It's fine. I told you it would be. (She moves the scarf slightly) It'll be gone by tomorrow. I didn't intend to tell the others—I was just worried about you and Wesley has an eye for these things."

Angel: (He shrugs as if to say, it's no big deal.) "Did Cordy explain everything?"

Miranda: (big sigh.) "Gypsies. (a bit flippant) Who knew?"

Angel: "I should have told you. I'm sorry."

Miranda: (a bit of anger filtering into her voice) "Yeah, and why exactly didn't you? No one seems to be able to give me a straight answer on that one."

Angel: "Wes thinks there might have been some sort of...(catches Miranda's deepening glare)...I guess I assumed you already knew. I figured Buffy would have mentioned it."

Miranda: (a bit incredulous) "You _assumed_."

Angel: "I don't know. I can't explain it. Maybe I thought it could be different this time—I might be able to control it; control how I felt."

Miranda: "Because I'm not Buffy."

Angel: (He ponders this a moment--perhaps there is an element of truth in it. Still, it would do no good to admit that now.) "Because I knew what would happen if I couldn't."

Miranda: (definite touch of bitterness) "And yet, somehow, you still failed to mention anything to me. (snarky) Because you _might_ be able to control it. I see."

Angel: (He takes a couple of steps closer to her) "Miranda, I..." (She doesn't let him finish.)

Miranda: (Starting to tear up slightly. Under her breath, to herself: "All this and I end up almost causing what I came here to prevent." Resigned/sad tone with a touch of frustration) So that's it then? What, I'm supposed to pack my bags and be on my merry way?"

Angel: "No. I...I...don't know. It's dangerous _now_, but maybe..."

He doesn't know what to say, and at this point, Miranda leans over and puts her hands on her knees/thighs and lowers her head—she looks as though she is about to break down. He steps closer to try to comfort her. But just as he gets close enough to touch her, she lifts her head and starts shaking it.

Miranda: "No. I can't do this. There's been enough bloody crying."

(narration from Miranda in the present (henceforth M-ip))

M-ip: "At that moment, something sort of snapped in me. I was at the point of either breaking down in tears over the whole business and feeling sorry for myself OR getting angry. At the time, rage seemed the healthier option, so I went with it."

She stands up, pauses a moment and then clocks Angel square in the face with a mean right hook. He goes flying back as if he'd been hit by the slayer.

M-ip: "I don't know quite where the strength came from, but I managed to send him flying. I'm pretty sure I broke his nose, which is damn impressive considering he's a vampire and all. Broke a couple of bones in my hand doing it, but it was worth it to see the shocked look on his face. After that, I didn't hold back. I let it all come roaring out."

Miranda: (seething rage mixed with tears—she's shouting) "You selfish bastard. You fucking wanted it all. I gave up EVERYTHING to come here. (brief pause) I_ hate_ this city—it's nothing but sickness and death to me. I gave up _EVERYTHING_ for you. I was happy. Now it's all gone. Irretrievable. All for you. How could you have not warned me? _Bastard_."

She grabs her coat and her sword and goes stomping off. He stands up and follows her down the stairs.

Angel: "Where are you going?"

Miranda: "Wherever you can't."

She kicks open the front door and heads into the daylight. We hear the sound of her motorcycle as she speeds away.

Cordelia: (noticing his bloody nose) "I'm thinking it didn't go well."

Angel: "Gunn, could you keep an eye on her until dark?"

Gunn: "Sure, man. I'll get right on it."

Many hours later. Outside St. Michael's church.

Miranda pulls up on her motorcycle. She climbs off and heads straight for the front door. It's locked. She manages to break the lock with her sword and kick it open. We see Gunn off in the distance watching her—he makes a call and then heads towards the entrance. Now we see Miranda in the church. She finds the lights and turns them on. She looks around, wild eyed. She heads to Father Dunn's quarters. His door is open. He is sitting at his desk, reading something in brail. He looks up when he hears her enter. He can sense her emotion—it's as if she is sending out electricity or energy into the room.

Miranda: (shaking with anger) "You knew, didn't you? It wasn't true and you knew it and you showed me anyway. I trusted you and you betrayed me. Why must I be punished? Why? (beat) Well, I'm done with it. Done. It was all for fucking nothing. (she shouts) NOTHING."

Not waiting for a response, she stalks back into the main part of the church.

Father Dunn: (to himself; she is already out of earshot) "Maybe not, my child. Show them your rage and perhaps they will listen." (He gets up, puts on his coat and starts to shuffle towards a door leading to the outside.)

M-ip: "I started screaming. Every blasphemy I could think of. Every curse I'd ever heard. But that wasn't enough. I took my sword and started hacking at the statues—they were wood and easy to break. I cut the wings off of every angel I could find. I used my sword to destroy anything that could be destroyed. And when I was too tired to swing my sword one more time, I curled up in one of the pews and sobbed."

Angel appears outside of the church. He walks up the steps and peers through the doors that are still slightly ajar.

(Writer's note: For some reason, back when I conceived of this, I was thinking that a vampire couldn't go into a church. Of course, now I know that they can. Oops. In my world, he can't go inside, ok?)

Angel looks heart-broken as he stands on the steps, wondering what to do. He hears a voice.

Father Dunn: "Young man, could you help me a moment. I've dropped my cane and it has slid down into the ditch."

Angel: (mildly annoyed) "Now's not really...(catching himself) Of course. (He starts looking around by the old man's feet for the cane) Isn't it kind of late to be taking a walk?"

Father Dunn: "Is it late? I'm afraid I'm quite blind—night or day makes no difference to me."

Angel: (getting frustrated) "I'm not seeing anything. You sure you dropped it here?"

Father Dunn: "Perhaps I was mistaken. Might you just lead me to the bench near the front door? I can make my way from there without it."

Angel: (frowning—he wants to talk to Gunn, who has gone inside) "Take my arm."

The old priest takes hold of his arm and they walk slowly towards the bench. When they arrive, the man sits.

Father Dunn: "Care to sit with me a moment?"

Angel: "I don't mean to be rude, but..."

Father Dunn: "She's in there, but you cannot join her. He's with her now."

Angel: (shocked) "What? I..."

Father Dunn: "You are the dark one that Miranda talked about. Please, sit."

Angel: (pain/guilt in his voice) "I need to talk to her. I need to tell her..."

Father Dunn: "It's not the time for that now. She is in too much pain—too much turmoil. It must continue its course. They must_ feel _it."

Angel: "Who are you?"

Father Dunn: "Someone who may be able to help. I am simply a channel for them."

Angel: "The Powers?"

Father Dunn: (not answering) "You must be quite special to be loved by such a creature as Miranda. Let's have a look (He puts his hands on Angel's face—he feels it like blind people do). Hm. Please, show me your demon face."

Angel: "Why?"

Father Dunn: "I need to show them. Please, if you want to ease her pain, you must do as I say."

Angel complies. The priest slowly explores the ridges of his face with his fingers.

Meanwhile, inside the church, Gunn is sitting next to Miranda on the pew. She is sitting up now, but still clenched and teary.

Gunn: (looking around) "Got to hand it to you—when you get mad, you get things _done_."

Miranda: (wiping her tears away) "I feel too much. That's my problem. After 140 years, you'd think I'd have built up a decent amount of scar tissue, but I still feel more than most."

Gunn: "Maybe that's what makes you special—that's your thing."

Miranda: "But it hurts so much, I don't know how long I can take it."

Gunn: "It'll get better, right?"

Miranda: "I never told you about death #11. (Writer's note: they have a thing where M tells G all of her 'death' stories—she has a list of every time she's "died" in the human sense, i.e., her heart has stopped beating.) Self inflicted. After Cal died, I couldn't take it—I needed to escape for a few hours."

Gunn: "You knew you'd be back, right? No shame in that."

(back outside)

Father Dunn: "I see the curse. Your soul is transient. Do you wish it to be permanent? Is that your desire?"

Angel: "Yes."

Father Dunn: "The debt must be paid. Then you will be free. (more concentration) Let me see what I can do."

(back inside)

Miranda: "Tell him I'm sorry. I know that it's not his fault."

Gunn: "You can tell him."

Miranda: "Nah. It's too much. (beat) Maybe before I leave."

Gunn: "Where're you going?"

Miranda: "Anywhere. Yes, tell him I'll see him before I go. I need to figure some things out first."

Gunn: "Yeah, OK."

(back outside)

Father Dunn: (disheartened) "I'm sorry. It's too heavy—too much. They will not agree."

Angel: "Thanks for trying. (pause) I didn't mean to hurt her."

Father Dunn: (sympathetic) "I'm sure she knows."

(inside)

Miranda: "And give him this."

She pulls at the cross pendent on her necklace until it becomes detached from the chain. She wraps it in a handkerchief and hands it to Gunn.

(outside)

Father Dunn: (He's just starting to remove his hands from Angel's face, when he jerks back slightly) "The debt has been lightened. The soul will be yours."

Angel: "What does that mean?"

Father Dunn: "Continue on the path and your debt will be repaid. (smiling) There is hope for you now."

Angel: "I don't understand."

Father Dunn: "You will. When it is time. You can go inside now. (Angel gives him a skeptical look) Go on."

Angel, looking confused, stands up and walks in through the front door of the church. He gets a few steps in, sees the carnage and then comes face-to-face with Gunn, who is walking towards him.

Gunn: "She took off. Not ready to see you yet. She wanted me to give you this."

He hands Angel the handkerchief. Angel unwraps it and sees the cross, which appears to be slightly glow-y.

tbc...


	29. Chapter 29

AN: This chapter has one of my favorite scenes. Probably plays better in my head than on paper, but I hope you'll like it.

BTW, the hits counter seems to be broken at the moment, so I have no idea if anyone is reading. Any comments would be muchly appreciated! Make me feel less lonely ...

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Summary: Time passes. Angel and the others search for Miranda, but she has disappeared. Angel has gone into full sulk mode. He still has no idea what the priest was talking about—everything seems the same. They have some evidence that she is still in L.A.. At one point, Duncan bursts into the hotel and rather violently demands to know what Angel did (in a protective, big brotherly kind of way). He had accidentally bumped into Miranda somewhere and she was behaving very oddly. She said she had been having trouble sleeping and he could smell the alcohol on her, though she didn't seem drunk. She wouldn't tell him what happened and then quickly disappeared. Kate (the police detective) shows up a few days after that.

Kate: "Looks like your girlfriend's been moonlighting."

Angel: "What?"

Kate: (handing him something) "Surveillance cameras took these—none of them got a direct shot, but there's a decent image of her left arm—tattoo clearly visible. Two robberies in the past week at local museums."

Angel: "It's not Miranda—her tattoo is only on her wrist, not all the way up her arm. And she's not my girlfriend (beat)_ anymore_."

Kate: (surprised, some sympathy) "Oh. Whoever it was took some fairly pricey artifacts. And managed to put two security guards and a cop in the hospital."

Angel: "It's not her."

Kate: (handing him another picture) "Yeah, well, we've got a better picture from hospital security in a kidnapping case. A young woman abducted from the cancer ward last night. No ransom, no body has turned up—doctors said she's unlikely to have survived the trauma in her condition."

Angel: "I'm sure there's some sort of explanation."

Kate: "That's why I figured I'd give you a heads up. I haven't let on that I know who she is yet. But I'll have to soon."

Angel: "Thanks, Kate." (deep, concerned frown)

xxxxxxx

Sometime later in a phone booth, late at night in a rather deserted part of town. Miranda is leaning against the back glass, with her hand on the receiver, though she hasn't picked it up yet. She looks awful. She takes a swig from a bottle and pulls a piece of paper from the pocket of her pants. She unfolds it, takes a deep breath and then dials. It rings and then an answering machine picks up—it's Angel's voice saying no one is there to take the call.

Miranda: "It's me. I'm calling to say that I don't think I'm going to be able to see you before I go. (She's reading from the paper.) I thought that I'd be able to and I know I told Gunn that I would, but...things haven't been going all that well and I just don't think it would be a good idea. So. Uh, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I don't blame you for the way things turned out. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you—I'm sorry for breaking your nose. (sniff) And, uh, I think I should warn you that if I do see you at some point in the future, I'm likely to be very cruel and you shouldn't take it too personally. That's just the way it has to be. Okay. I think that's it. (putting down the piece of paper) Phew, that wasn't so hard now, w..." (Just then Angel picks up the phone.)

Angel: "Miranda?" (silence) "Miranda, are you there? Don't hang up."

Miranda: (starting to freak out a bit) "You're not supposed to be there. I don't...I'm not ready...I put my notes away."

Angel: "Please. Miranda, I've been so worried."

Miranda: (a bit teary) "Hi."

Angel: (relief) "Hi. (beat) Are you OK?"

Miranda: "Um. I feel a little dizzy."

Angel: "Maybe you should sit down."

Miranda: "Okay." (She slides down the glass and sits at the floor of the booth.)

Angel: "Where are you?"

Miranda: (looking around nervously) "Uh, I'm not sure. I think I may be lost."

Angel: "Do you still have your motorcycle?"

Miranda: "No. I sold it to some guy. (beat) I think."

Angel: "Is there a street sign nearby? I could come get you. Just help me figure out where you are."

Miranda: "The thing is, I don't have my sword. I fell asleep on a bench and some kids took it. I haven't been sleeping. Everything started out fine—I was feeling all right and then I fell asleep and I had this awful dream. And then every time I fell asleep, I had the same awful dreams and so I decided that I didn't want to go to sleep anymore but after a few days, I couldn't help it and then those stupid kids came...(she's crying)...and now I can't fight and what if they find me?"

Angel: "I'll bring you a sword; Or you can come get one."

Miranda: (whispering) "I see myself do things and I think I'm dreaming, but I'm not. And sometimes I am, but I don't know it. Maybe I should talk to Wesley."

Angel: "Come back to the hotel and we'll figure it out. When was the last time you slept?"

Miranda: "The bench, I told you—must've been out for a couple of hours. Before that, it'd been three days, maybe."

Angel: "You need to get some rest—sleep deprivation will make you insane."

Miranda: "But I don't want to sleep—I don't want to dream. I do terrible things—horrible, horrible, horrible."

Angel: "What do you see when you look out of the phone booth?"

Miranda: "You're not listening to me. I should go."

Angel: "No, don't hang up. Please. It's been so quiet here."

Silence for a bit (with breathing/sniffling noises).

Miranda: "I miss...it's nice hearing your voice."

Angel: "Yeah."

Miranda: (pause) "Maybe I_ could _come by and pick up my things."

Angel: "I'll pack them up for you. You can get some rest and talk to Wesley and..."

Miranda: "Where would I...?...I guess I could sleep in the lobby. Maybe that would be best."

Angel: "Whatever you want. Just come home. Do you have money?"

Miranda: "A little."

Angel: "Just find a cab and tell them to take you here."

Miranda: (looking a little cheerier) "Yes, I could find a taxi. I have a card with the address of the hotel on it. I'll give it to him."

Angel: "Do that. Just keep walking until you find one—or stop in a market or a bar and ask them to call you one."

Miranda: "Ok. So, uh, I'll see you later."

Angel: (big smile of relief) "Soon."

(Writer's note: Gentle reader, I don't know if you've ever been through a tough break-up. I sure have (a couple!), including one time with my now husband early on. If you have, do you remember that feeling when you're really down in the dumps—you've been crying and you're upset and everything has been so HARD and then, suddenly, you have the opportunity to spend time with your ex and even though rationally, you know it's a bad idea, you jump at it. And for that short period of time, once you've decided to give in to it and you're on your way to see him, you feel calm again and almost happy. I can't describe it very well, but I'm thinking this is what Miranda is feeling. Everything has gone to crap in her mind and even though she's still mad and upset, the idea of going back to the hotel has such a strong appeal, merely because there's some comfort in it. You do crazy, irrational things sometimes if you're upset enough and tired enough. More on that later….)

She hangs up the phone and staggers out of the phone booth. She's still very out-of-it. Eventually, we see her find a taxi. She drags herself in the backseat, explains that she only has $20 and gives him the card with the address on it. She quickly passes out. The cabbie wakes her, hands her $5 and the card with the address. She climbs out—he drives off before she has a chance to get her bearings. When she does, she realizes she's not at the hotel. She looks at the card and notices that written on the back is Lindsey's home address—CRAP. She turns around to see a high-rise apartment building. She decides to go up. She rings the bell. He answers. She asks to borrow $20. He asks her to come in for a drink. She reluctantly agrees. They discuss the situation—he manages to talk her out of going back to the Hotel. He'll get her a sword and she can stay with him for as long as she needs to. He ends up getting some of her things from the hotel as well, much to the chagrin of Angel. (Writer's note: Again, this was a cute little scene with Lindsey, but I just didn't have the time to work on it.)

So basically, she never appears at the hotel and Angel is disheartened, and continues to use the gang to try to track her. A few days later, they find out that she has bought a one-way ticket to Edinburgh, Scotland leaving in two days from Sunnydale airport (ahem). Angel contemplates going to the airport to see her.

Scene 15

Sunnydale. Outside of Miranda's house. A car pulls up and parks badly, partially knocking over the mailbox. Miranda stumbles out. She's got a bottle in one hand and a bag thrown over her shoulder. She staggers up to the house, fumbles for her keys and goes in. The place is a mess—the electricity is out (no one to pay the bills), so Miranda finds some candles and lights them. Once there is light, she looks around and sighs. She goes upstairs and starts rummaging around in one of the rooms. Suddenly a rock is thrown through one of the windows. Then another. She glances outside from the second floor, to find Spike standing on the lawn, hurling whatever he can find at the house. Luckily, his aim is a bit off because he's drunk too (big surprise).

(Quick flashback to just a few moments before—Spike is strolling along the sidewalk towards the house. Looks like this is something he's been doing on a regular basis. He stops at the front gate where the car is and notices the candle-lights appearing in the windows. He takes a few steps into the lawn and then stops for a moment. He turns to look for something to throw. He spots an orange tabby cat sitting next to a nearby tree.

Spike: "Get out of here. Stop following me, you stupid hairball." (He takes a step towards it as if to chase it away.)

Spike: "I mean it. Go on home. Dawn's your mum now."

It runs away from him, but then stops as soon as he stops chasing it.)

Miranda rests her forehead on the window frame for just a moment, staring at him, wearily, and then with a look of determination, goes down the stairs and opens the door.

Spike: (seeing her) "Well if it isn't bloody Ilsa, back from the war. Did we win? Or did our soulful hero throw you out when he discovered what a cold bitch you are?" (Miranda just stands there in the doorway and takes it, trying to look tough and disinterested) "You're lucky I can't come inside, 'cause..."

Miranda: (before he can finish) "Come in." (She says this and then turns away from the door and heads into the house. Spike looks surprised, but then quickly strolls through the door. He heads straight for her—she's in the process of pulling a suitcase out of one of the closets. She sees him standing there and says to his face) "Go on then."

Spike: (Almost too angry to get the words out—he'd thought about what he might say in this very situation, but is having trouble getting started) "You self-righteous, manipulative, lying bitch."

Miranda: "Is that the best you can do? Give it some wellie, luv—if it's one thing I thought I could count on you for, it's a good insult."

Spike: (infuriated) "Honestly there aren't enough words to describe how much you disgust me. Bugger if I know why I didn't let you have it last time in L.A. Must've been fucking off my head to think there was any other explanation than your own selfish desire to screw whoever takes your fancy at the moment. Let me guess, the plonker threw you out because you were shagging someone else—most likely his worst enemy, only that would be me and I know you weren't shagging me, though honestly it would be easy enough to forget so maybe you were."

He's on a roll now. She has taken the suitcase down into the bedroom now and is pulling things out of drawers—he is following her with a constant stream of insults.

"Or did you just figure out that you can't _fuck_ your way into heaven? That is what you were going for right? So you could be with your precious Cal? 'Cause even though it's been a long time, I'm pretty sure that isn't one of the options. 'Course if it were, I might've signed up, along with a few more, I'd bet. Maybe that could be your thing—you could be the Angel of Fucking."

Miranda: "That's more like it."

Spike: "Did you honestly think that screwing a hero was the same thing as being one? That makes you bloody certifiable, that does. I have a touch more of a handle on how these things work and let me be the first to let you in a little secret—doesn't work that way. Don't fool yourself— hell's waiting for you with open arms."

Miranda: "Guess I'd best not die, then."

Spike: "So tell me pet, was it lurve? Or was he just your new bit of ruff? Who's next—the bloody Terminator? Bet that'd be good for a laugh—certainly a step up in personality. But here you are—back in good ol' Sunny-D. Decided to give the knife one more twist before you leave for good? There was a time when I found sadism attractive, but..."

Miranda: (defensive) "I thought you were still in Rio with Darla."

Spike: "How did...? (thinks about it for a moment) The cash card. You gave it to her—you knew I'd know the pin. She said she took it off you, but you wanted to track us."

Miranda: (Not answering, fishing something out of her bag—an envelope. She tosses it on the bed and some documents come out of the opening—one of them is a passport.) "These are yours. Might as well take them. They're not of any use to me."

Spike: "What for?"

Miranda: "I don't know. (ha) You can to follow me to Europe and then the insults need never stop."

Spike: "Bugger that. I'll be as far away from you as I can get. You've got some brass to suggest I'd want to be anywhere near you after what you've done. Makes me want to hurl just thinkin' about it."

Miranda: (Still packing, but now she is s starting to let the words get to her a bit) "So you're going to stay here and pine for your precious Buffy?"

Spike: (He grins a sadistic grin—now he knows where her sensitive spot is. Time to go in for the kill. Calmly) "No need to pine anymore, luv. I've had her. (He's totally lying—curious if she'll believe him) Hmmm (He purrs) and she was...everything I'd hoped. (He can see Miranda stiffen at this—she's totally buying it) Yep, we've been going at it like rabbits—she's tireless. For such a youngster, she's got some skills. Must be a slayer thing. I suppose it's the enthusiasm that makes all the difference, really. I mean, I expected Darla to make me forget all about shagging you, but Buffy, well, her superiority was a complete surprise."

Miranda: (This is too much for her. She stops packing and in a very angry/upset voice replies) "That is such bullshit. Darla, fine—who the hell knows. But there is no way Buffy is better—you may have enjoyed fucking her more than me, but that's all it was. Or is. She's a bloody child."

Spike: (laughs) "What's wrong, luv. Was Mr. Soulful pining for his little Buffy the whole time? Oooh, tough luck. If I could be bothered to give a rats arse, I'd...nah, I can't."

Miranda stomps off into the next room and is rummaging through various drawers, pulling various items out to throw in her suitcase. Spike is right behind her, throwing insults.

Miranda: (beginning to rant—more to herself than to Spike) "It's_ all_ such bullshit, really. We're just idiots, all of us. Chasing after things we think we want—trying to be who we think we should. I mean, look at you chasing after Buffy. You're a vampire—and no matter what you do, you won't be who she needs you to be and you wouldn't be happy if you were. Before that there was Dru and despite your efforts you weren't who she wanted either—you couldn't match her ambitions and again you wouldn't've been happy if you did. So you can't be evil enough for Dru or good enough for Buffy, so why is it that you try so hard to be either of those things. You and I are the same, really. We don't accept who we are, so we fight it with all we've got only to be miserable in the end. We chase the white and the black, but the truth is, we're as gray as the Seattle sky. Well I say 'fuck it' and you should too."

Spike: "Hey, you leave me out of your bloody psychobabble."

She's now just finished rummaging in a drawer in the livingroom. She throws what she pulled out on the coffee table and stands face to face with Spike, focusing on him directly for the first time (up to now, she has averted her eyes).

Miranda: "Do you want to hit me? Would that make you feel better?"

Spike: "It'd be a nice step in that direction, yeah."

Miranda: "Go on, then. Give me your best shot."

Spike: "Don't think I need your permission, pet, but since you offered..."

His face is still fired up with rage—teeth clenched, eyes flared. He forms a fist with one of his hands, lifts it, but then hesitates. You can tell that even with all his rage and pain, he's conflicted—he'd never hit her in anger before. She sees the look on his face and knows that he won't just strike her down as she stands there. So she punches him hard across the jaw. That's all he needed—he comes at her with all the pent-up fury in him. They fight—Miranda does her best to defend herself, but it's far from even—without weapons, she is at a severe disadvantage. That and her heart just isn't in it—she wants to let him beat the crap out of her. They basically trash the living room as they fight. Finally, Spike hits her square in the face and she goes flying backwards and lands on her back on top of the glass coffee table—it shatters and now she laying on top of the broken glass. He jumps on her and pins her arms to the side as he straddles her—he's in vamp face now.

Miranda: (Tears coming now—she's lost all control. Still a hint of bitterness/anger in her voice) "Do it. Just do it. (She turns her head to the side, giving him a direct line to her jugular.) And when you're done, finish it if you want—my sword's in the next room."

She is surprised to hear herself say this. In response, Spike, pushes her hard into the glass beneath—he's still seething. He looks at her—she has closed her eyes and tears are streaming down her face. She is sobbing just a little.

Spike: (yelling) "How could you do this? We were happy. You ruined everything. I should rip your heart out. (pause. angry/demanding voice) "Why are you crying? What's a little pain for someone like you? (beat) Why are you crying? (She doesn't respond. He pushes her shoulders hard into the broken glass again—she whimpers.) Answer me."

He shoves her again when she doesn't answer, his eyes viciously scanning her face.

Miranda: (After another moment, she reluctantly spits out her pain.) "Because you hate me so much. (between sobs) I still love you and you _hate_ me. Please, just be done with it."

Spike: (Coming back to human face. Despite himself, he's calming down. He can feel she's telling the truth, and this throws him off.) "Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you? Easy way out. (beat) Fuck it."

He roughly pushes back from her and sits on the ground a couple feet away, leaning against a wall looking utterly spent. Miranda continues to cry and hold her eyes shut. After she realizes he isn't going to bite/kill her, she blinks and opens them slightly, but doesn't move. A few minutes pass.

Spike: "Make me an offer."

Miranda: (She's not quite sure what she just heard. She lifts her head slightly and comes up a bit on her elbows (still on her back)) "What?"

Spike: (Voice full of exhaustion and defeat.) "I'm tired of being angry. Tired of being sad. I'm just...tired. (beat) Make me an offer."

Miranda: (Still not quite believing what she's hearing, but she is sure as hell going to jump at the opportunity. She props herself up more fully on her elbows so she can look at him.) "Come with me to Europe. Give me two weeks—a month, maybe, to prove myself. I'll do whatever I can to try and make it up to you."

Spike: "Such as?"

Miranda: (Thinking as she wipes some blood and tears from her face with the back of her hand.) "We'll do whatever you want to do—go where you want to go. I've still got enough money to keep us traveling in style. I'll promise however you want me to promise—we could get married, if that's what you want. (He lets out a short, bitter laugh as if to say that time has past. She notes his reaction and adds) I'll hunt for you—I don't care. Give me a month to do this—to try; and if at the end, it isn't enough, you can just leave and break my heart and get your revenge. Or take my head and send me to hell. I won't ever fight you again. (She's getting more animated as she speaks—could he honestly be considering it? Raising an eyebrow) I'll do whatever you want. What've you got to lose?"

He watches her closely as she talks. When she's done, he turns his face to the side as he considers it. A few moments pass. She is holding her breath and scanning his face. He stands up and takes a step towards her and then stops, towering over her menacingly.

Spike: "Plenty. (beat) But okay."

He holds out his hand. She closes her eyes briefly—she can't believe it. She takes hold of his hand and he pulls her up to her feet. Some glass falls from her clothes. Neither of them speak for a moment—it's a bit awkward as they stand there in silence. Miranda is the first to say something.

Miranda: "I'll need to make some calls. (He nods. She walks over to her bag on the counter and pulls out her cell phone. She takes outa small notebook out and dials.) "Yes, I have a ticket on flight 478 to Edinburgh. Sumner, Miranda. Yes, that's it. I have a traveling companion and was wondering if there are any seats left on that flight. I'll wait. Oh, I see. What about if we leave straight from LAX instead of coming from Sunnydale? Right then, we'll do that. Can I upgrade to business class as well? Thank you. (She gives them the rest of the details and then dials another number.) "I have a reservation beginning tomorrow night and I'd like to see about getting a bigger room. Miranda Sumner. Tell me, is the basement suite available? (pause as she listens) I do realize there aren't any windows. Yes, that would be perfect." (She hangs up and puts the phone down.) "That's it then."

Spike: "When do we leave?"

Miranda: "Since we have to drive to L.A., I'm afraid we need to leave in the next half hour or so. Is that Okay? I can change the flight again if you need to..."

Spike: "Nah, it's fine. Last I checked, they had clothes in Scotland."

Still very awkward—neither of them are quite sure what to do. After a moment, Miranda walks toward Spike and slowly and cautiously moves close enough to touch him. She puts her hands on his chest and looks into his eyes. A tear streaks down her cheek.

Miranda: (almost a whisper) "I'm so sorry, William."

Up to this point, he hadn't moved a muscle. Now he softly wraps his arms around her and pulls her close into a hug—he presses his face into her hair. They stay like that for a long time, not moving or saying a word. You can feel them both relax after a few minutes. He moves his hands down her back and notices the bits of glass still stuck to her shirt and skin.

Spike: "We should get you cleaned up a bit." (As he says this, he pushes away slightly and turns to go get a cloth. You can see he's got tears in his eyes and is all sniffly—he tries to hide it and quickly wipes his nose on his arm. When he gets back with the cloth, he gently turns her around and pulls off her shirt. She winces. There is a lot of glass and a lot of blood.) "Think, maybe we should do this in the bath, luv."

She turns and nods, flashing a small smile. Next they're in the bathroom. She's sitting on the edge of the tub—he's behind her, gently pulling out pieces of glass and wiping up the blood with a wet towel. You can tell it must be painful for her, but she's smiling. If you saw her from the front, you'd think she was getting a massage or something else fun from the look on her face.

tbc...


	30. Chapter 30

Scene 16

Angel Investigations. Cordelia is on a computer near the front desk. Angel comes downstairs, carrying his coat.

Angel: "You about ready to go?"

Cordelia: "Yep, just confirming that she hasn't swapped flights on us or anything. This security access thingy Gunn's hacker friend hooked us up with sure comes in handy. You sure you want to do this?"

Angel: "I need to see her—make sure she's okay."

Cordelia: "And that's all? (He shrugs. She looks back to the computer screen.) That's odd."

Angel: "What?"

Cordelia: "Now it says she's checking in to LAX, not Sunnydale and..."

Angel: "And what?"

Cordelia: (look of concern) "She's not flying alone—she bought another ticket."

Angel: "Can you get a name?"

Cordelia: "Let's see." (She presses a few buttons. She lets out a little laugh.)

xxxx

The same time, in the car with Miranda and Spike on their way to the airport. Miranda is driving. Spike is looking at the documents in the folder that Miranda had made by W&H. He pulls out the passport and opens it.

Spike: "Ugh, stop the car."

Miranda: "What for?"

Spike: (snarky) "William S. Heathcliff?"

Miranda: (defensive) "I had maybe two minutes to come up with a name _and_ I had a whole host of other things on my mind at the time. I was in an evil law firm, for goodness sake."

Spike: "Aw, but Heathcliff? That's bloody awful. Here's a thought—maybe you could've used my real pre-vamp name—wouldn't have taken much time to come up with that."

Miranda: "I couldn't remember it."

Spike: "Bollocks. Besides, you sure as hell could've come up with something that doesn't make me sound like such a poofter."

Miranda: "Like what?"

Spike: "I don't know. Like 'Vicious' or 'Rotten' or..."

Miranda: "You're not a Sex Pistol, Spike."

Spike: "I'm just saying, you could've put a bit more thought into it."

Miranda: "Come on, it's funny. I'm dying to hear someone call you 'Mr. Heathcliff'. (She starts giggling.)

Spike: "You did it on purpose. (playfully) You really are evil."

Miranda: (Can't stop herself from laughing) "It's a lovely name. Besides, you'd like the real Heathcliff from the Bronte novel—he was a right cruel bastard; in the best possible way, of course."

Spike: (skeptical) "Yeah?"

Miranda: "I'll tell you the story sometime—maybe I'll even read it to you." (He just shakes his head.)

Spike: (changing the subject) "So how does this whole flying business work anyway?"

Miranda: "Have you never been on a plane?"

Spike: "Oh, I've been on one—just not in the passenger cabin."

Miranda: "Well, we get there, check in—they'll check your passport and we'll have to hope no one at W&H decided to take the time to mess with the records. Best to let me do the talking. Then we sit in the airport for a couple of hours before they let us on the plane—we can have drinks; heaven forbid we sober up. Once we get on the plane, you're going to have to be on your best behavior. I mean it, now. Just act like a normal passenger and be nice to the cabin crew. People tend to panic easily when they're in a confined space 30,000 feet above the ground. And we certainly don't want to get arrested on arrival or anything. Oh, and there's no smoking."

Spike: "Stop the car."

Miranda: "Surely you can make it 9 hours without a fag."

Spike: (shock) "Nine hours? Stop the car."

Miranda: "You'll be fine. If you're any bit as exhausted as I am, you'll sleep the whole way there. And they've got films and such to watch. And music. Oh, and complimentary drinks."

Spike: "What about beds?"

Miranda: (smiling at the implication) "No beds, I'm afraid. Not in business class, anyway."

Spike: (jokingly/with a smile this time) "Stop the car."

She just rolls her eyes slightly, smirking, and keeps driving.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sometime later at the airport. Angel and Cordelia arrive at LAX. They walk up to the airline counter and pretend to be police detectives—they ask to know if Miranda and her companion have checked in. The woman is a bit dubious (middle-aged; stern looking), but checks the computer and confirms that they have checked in.

Angel: "Did you notice anything unusual about them? Any suspicious behavior?"

Cordelia: "What my partner here is trying to get at is that we have reason to suspect that Ms. Sumner may not be traveling willingly—that this may be a kind of kidnapping situation."

(Sidebar: Angel had called Buffy to have a look around Miranda's house after they'd found out about the change of plans. Buffy reported back that the first floor had been trashed and that there was blood and broken glass in the livingroom.)

Check-in Person #1: "I honestly don't recall them at all."

Angel: "She's about this tall, medium-length reddish brown hair, English accent, pretty—she's got a tattoo on her left wrist."

CIP#1: "We've been very busy this afternoon and I've checked in 50 or more people in the last hour and a half. I just don't remember. Now if you wouldn't mind, I've got customers waiting."

Angel: (frustrated frown) "Thanks for your time" (They turn to go)

CIP#2: (next counter over; she's young and hip looking): "I remember them. Sorry, couldn't help but overhear. English accent, tattoo—checked in about 20 minutes ago. Cute couple." (CIP#1 flashes her an annoyed look—she's frustrated at the delay.)

Cordelia: "Can you describe the guy she was with?"

CIP#2: (She laughs a bit and smiles broadly) "Actually, I remember him more than her—s'why I took notice. Slender, blonde, blue eyes—a serious hottie with a bit of an attitude and a wicked cool accent."

Cordelia: (to Angel) "Definitely Spike."

Angel: (pouty) "Hottie? I don't know if I'd..."

Cordelia: (to the girl) "How did they act?"

CIP#2: "They were pretty cute—seemed happy enough; relaxed. They were both a bit beat up—she more than him. Had a few cuts on her face and she looked kind of stiff, like she had more bandages under her clothes."

Angel: "What gate?"

CIP#2: "57"

Cordelia: "Thanks for your help."

Angel leads the way, looking very grumpy.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Miranda and Spike are sitting at a bar table having a drink in one of the bars near their departure gate. Despite what the check-in girl said, there's still a feeling of hesitancy between them. They haven't spoken about anything but the flight details—small talk, basically. Its partly because they're both completely exhausted/spent; partly because being together is the last thing either of them expected and neither quite know how to act. In some ways, Miranda worries that it's all just a dream and that if she asks too many questions it might all evaporate—everything is still pretty hazy. So they sip their drinks and make pleasant chit-chat. There's a page over the PA system for Miranda, telling her to go to the nearest white courtesy phone. She's a bit dubious, but it could have something to do with their flight or more likely, their paperwork, so she tells Spike to wait there and she goes to find the phone. She slowly makes her way in the right direction with her drink in hand and eventually sees the line of phones around a corner to the side of the terminal. She heads towards them, but just as she's close enough to pick up the receiver, Angel appears from around the corner. She doesn't look terribly shocked to see him—or maybe she's too tired to be shocked by anything at this point. He stops dead when he sees her. She stands facing him, about 6 feet away with an almost bored look of "well?"—She casually takes a sip from her drink. You can tell he wants to come closer, but something about her demeanor stops him. He doesn't say anything for a moment.

Miranda: "Angel. (figuring it out) Ah, another ruse. What a surprise. (Pause—he is still not actually forming words) Are we going to stand here all day, or did you want something? I've got a plane to catch."

Angel: (a bit thrown by her casual attitude) "I wanted to make sure you were Ok. You didn't sound so good on the phone last time."

Miranda: (frowning, as if trying to remember) "Oh that. Yeah, I suppose I was a bit out-of-sorts. I'm fine now, so you can run along."

Angel: "Are you still having the dreams?"

Miranda: "Lindsey found me some wonderful pills that prevent dreaming. Don't know whether sleep without dreaming can be considered sleep, but a couple of nights of that and I felt better. Haven't slept since then, though, so I guess I'll find out on the plane." (She takes another sip of her drink.)

Angel: "You should know that the L.A. police may be looking for you soon—Kate showed me some pictures from surveillance cameras at the LA Museum of Art."

Miranda: (laugh) "Those pieces are funding this trip. Lindsey was a peach and took care of that for me as well."

Angel: "Men got hurt—don't you care?"

Miranda: "Please. Security guards and cops—they know what they're signing up for. And it's not like I caused any permanent damage."

Angel: "And the girl?"

Miranda: "An Immortal. She was just moments away from death and that would've been it, so I made her. Granted, I could have been more discrete with that one—a bit impulsive on my part. Lately I just can't seem to censor myself. (beat) Anything else,_ dad_?"

Angel: (looking hurt) "You don't have to leave."

Miranda: "And what's the alternative?"

Angel: "You're a part of the team. You could stay—we'd work something out."

Miranda: (Actually bursts out laughing—v. hurtful) "That's really funny. Oh, it wasn't meant to be a joke? I see. Honestly, I can think of nothing worse than spending my days moping around that bloody monastery you call a hotel, doing my best to make sure that nobody has too much fun. And let me guess, we could be best friends and share in the eternal misery of it all. No thank you. I am SO over that phase."

Angel: (floored by her callousness) "Phase? Why are you acting like this? I'm just trying to make things better."

Miranda: "For me, or for you, because it's not entirely clear."

Angel: "For both of us."

At this point, he takes a few steps forward. She turns to walk away, and he grabs her arm. She abruptly pulls away, but doesn't move any further. There's a look of surprise on her face, as if she has suddenly realized something. She starts laughing again, almost manically, and is shaking her head.

Angel: "You're drunk."

Miranda: (Light-hearted, almost pitying him for not getting it) "Oh, Angel. I've been drunk for weeks. You know, I'm suddenly a bit warm."

She takes off one of her shirts (she's wearing a cotton blouse over a tank top; she takes off the blouse). This reveals the whole of her left arm. The chain-link tattoo that used to just wrap around her wrist a couple of times, now loosely winds up her arm, past her elbow and at her upper arm, wraps around three or four times and now the links are much bigger (they seem to get bigger as they go up her arm).

Angel: (Seeing the tattoo, he gets a look of horror on his face) "What have you done?"

Miranda: "What, these old things? They're not mine, luv. Even at my worst, I couldn't rack up that kind of carnage in a fortnight. No, these are all yours."

Angel: (horror/confusion) "What?"

Miranda: (Looking at her own arm. Flippant.) "Good lord, you must've been busy. My question is, are the big ones worth more? Guess we'll have to see."

Angel: "I...I don't understand."

Miranda: (still very light-hearted in tone) "Oh, right. Exposition time, is it? I didn't know until just now, when you touched me. Then it all came flooding in. I'll tell you what, They've got a sense of humor. I can picture them up there now, laughing their bloody arses off. Let's see. You remember talking to a priest? Something about a debt? Yes, well it seems that in order for you to ever be able to repay it enough for them to do you a favor, such as removing the 'happiness' clause, it had to be lightened a bit. So they decided we'd split the difference and I got half, or thereabouts. Apparently it's a thing I do. One thing I will say is thank goodness I'm immortal, cause it will take some time to get rid of these (referring to the links on the tattoo). Who knew they'd be so literal and go with my little recording scheme. Hm, I wonder if they'll disappear on their own now—I'll be happy to do away with the acid bit. Always seemed so very self flagellation-y. Anyway, what this all means is that you're within striking distance of having your soul for good. Apparently when the time comes, you'll need something from me to seal the deal. On the off chance that I don't make it that far, they decided to hedge their bets and go ahead and take it from me now. Don't know quite how that all works—I was under the impression that you either had a soul or you didn't, but they seem to have taken just a piece of mine. Doesn't make much sense, but these things rarely do—mysterious ways and all that. In any event, I'd hang on to the pendant I gave you, that's for sure. (figuring something else out) Ah...and the dreams. They're not dreams at all—they're _your_ memories, corresponding to these (pointing to the links). (Looking upwards, as if speaking to TPTB) Nice touch. Oh, but the kicker is that they've banished me—or maybe it was just an unavoidable consequence—Still, I can't go into churches anymore. It's like I'm a bloody vampire or something—invisible walls and such. Guess I'll have to find other places to hide when I'm not up for a fight. Hm. Maybe it's only catholic churches—I did do a bit of damage to St. Michaels afterall. I'll have to look into it. Anyway, it's all very 'Greek tragedy', don't you think? Very Mount Olympus. Is it the Fates or the Furies who came up with this sort of thing back in the day? I could never keep them straight."

Up to this point, she has been just talking and not really paying attention to Angel's reaction—it's like she is talking to herself, since she has just figured out what's going on as well. Now that she is finished, she looks at Angel. He looks beaten down—all kinds of angst and horror and guilt on his face.

Angel: (pulling something out of his pocket—it's a handkerchief containing the cross pendant) "Take it back. I don't deserve it."

Miranda: (sigh and eye roll) "Ech, here we go. You deserve it because I say you deserve it and that's all there is to it. Now just go and be good and you can keep your sodding soul."

Angel: "No. It's too much—you shouldn't have to pay for what I've done."

Miranda: (waving it off) "Oh, it's what I do. Apparently. And it was probably all part of the "big plan" or some such. You're the hero—they need you. Beside, this gives you a whole new reason to mope and wallow in guilt and play the angst ridden dark avenger." (She laughs.)

Angel: "No. I won't accept it. Stay here and we'll figure out a way to reverse it."

Miranda: (Looking very annoyed, she takes a deep breath and mutters under her breath "bloody hell". She sets her drink down, pauses for a moment as if she has to concentrate very hard on something. She takes another deep breath and then steps closer to him. She looks him in the eye—now without 'tude. In a soft, caring voice.) "Angel. This was my choice. My gift. It's what they hoped would happen. Take it. Please. Else it was all for nothing. (She kisses him on the cheek and then whispers in his ear) Despite everything, I'd do it again. (quick smile) I think. No, I would."

She steps away and grabs her drink, downing the rest of it. She puts her shirt back on and is quickly back in 'tude mode.

Angel: (still looking utterly miserable) "What will you do?"

Miranda: "The plan was to go to Europe and show those old Immortal bastards that I'm not afraid of them. Why wait for them to come to me, right? I've been hiding my whole life. Maybe it's about time to jump directly into the fray and see what happens. (shrugs) We've all got to go sometime. Maybe sooner's better than later."

Angel: (Not what he wanted to hear) "And Spike?" (Said with palpable distaste.)

Miranda: "Now _that_ was completely unexpected. Never thought in a million years he'd take me back. The man is a fucking saint to give me another chance."

Angel: "So what's with all the cuts and bruises—Buffy said your place was trashed."

Miranda: (She winces at the mention of Buffy's name.) "He needed to work through some of his anger—thought it would do him a bit of good to have the opportunity to throw a few punches."

Angel: (Shaking his head in disgust) "Don't go."

Miranda: "I thought we'd covered this. Even you have to admit that it's better that he's with me. (thinking) Yes, it changes my outlook considerably. (beat) Goodbye, Angel. Thanks for stopping by. (laughing) It was enlightening."

She turns and starts walking away. Angel calls after her, but she just lifts her arm to wave him off. He looks miserable.

She comes back to the bar. Spike stands when she gets close to the table.

Spike: "I think they're calling our flight. Guess it's time to climb on board the bloody smoke-less flying machine."

She doesn't say anything, but steps up to him and leans in to kiss him on the lips. It's a gentle, but tasty kiss.

Spike: (honestly surprised) "What was that for?"

Miranda: "Just wanted to see if you'd let me." (He smiles, but then fakes stern.)

Spike: "Don't get cocky—I could say no at any time. I still hate you, remember?"

She just nods—with small smile. She grabs her bag from the chair and they head towards the gate. Next view is of them actually getting on the plane, walking down the rows of seats.

Spike: "So what was the call about?"

Miranda: "No call. It was Angel."

Spike: (looking visibly surprised/tense) "What did he want?"

They've now found their seats and are putting their things away.

Miranda: "He wanted me to stay in L.A. (beat) With him."

Spike: (Confused frown—he had pretty much resigned himself to the idea that Angel had broken up with Miranda and that's why she was back) "What did you say?"

Miranda: "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

Spike: "Short."

Miranda: "No, no and no. He asked three times."

Spike: (seriously confused) "Then why...?"

Miranda: "Let's not talk about that now, alright? Someday I'll tell you everything. Just not now." (He nods.)

They spend a few minutes settling in for the flight.

Miranda: "I haven't had anything to eat in quite some time. They'll have food on the flight—I'll take yours and mine and by the time we get there, I'll be strong enough for you to feed. (anticipating) I know, I know, it's not supposed to be about food, but we don't have any blood with us and I'm going to need some serious rest before I'm ready to go out and track some down."

Spike: (frowning) "No."

Miranda: (surprised/incredulous) "No?"

Spike: "I'll be fine."

Miranda: "Your stomach is growling already, I don't think you'll be fine for another two days."

Spike: (shrugging) "I just don't want to do it, is all."

Miranda: (Figuring it out—he's dwelling on what happened in L.A., when she made such a big deal about his wanting her only for her blood and its affects.) "Oh, Spike, it was never about the biting. Honestly."

Spike: "I don't need it. I'm fine without it. I just don't want you to think..."

Miranda: "I don't. Trust me. It wasn't about that. Besides, I'll probably recover (from the biting) much more quickly now—I managed to kill a very powerful Immortal when I was away."

Spike: "Probably? How is it you don't know?" (He'd thought Angel would have bit her.)

Miranda: "Oh. Uh, that's not something we (she and Angel) ever regularly...did."

Spike: (Looking downright cheery at this bit of news. The idea of it had really bothered him.) "Oh. Well then. So were there, uh, other things you didn't do?"

Miranda: (understanding the implication) "Well, we did _that_."

Spike: (disappointed, but not surprised) "Oh."

Miranda: "But it wasn't the same. I mean, with Angel it was all rather...perfunctory. You know—get in, get out, have the minimal amount of fun possible. I mean, heaven forbid you enjoy it too much and want to do it again—'cause that would be _wrong_."

Spike: (He smiles a bit. Then decides to come clean.) "I didn't shag Buffy. I mean, maybe I coulda done with a bit more time and effort, but..."

Miranda: (big smile/relief) "Oh, thank God. (beat) Darla?"

Spike: "ooh. Yeah, we fooled around a bit. But she was all about directing every little detail: Do this, do that. To the right, to the left; foot here, hand there—much too controlling for my taste. (beat) And I guess I sorta shagged half of Rio trying to get you out of my mind, but honestly, most people are just crap in the sack. If there's no chemistry, it's all pretty much mechanical."

Miranda: (Trying not to think too much about the 'half of Rio' comment) "That's something _we_ did very well."

Spike: "Oh yeah. We were bloody brilliant—it was an art."

Miranda: "Could've sold tickets."

Spike: "Damn straight—bloody porn stars look like amateurs compared to us."

Miranda: "I know _I've_ never seen a video that measured...up."

Spike: "We'd keep it going for days, no worries."

Miranda: "We could teach a bloody class—Fucking 101."

They're both suddenly very horny. Spike grabs a passing flight attendant.

Spike: (to the FA) "How long is this flight?"

FA: "Nine hours, sir."

Spike: "Aw, bugger that."

Miranda: "I think we're going to need a drink...or ten."

Scene 17

Scotland. Flashes of them getting their bags and then making their way to the hotel in a taxi—they barely speak. They both look utterly exhausted and bleary eyed. Next shot is of them coming into their room and throwing Miranda's bags in a corner.

Miranda: "I don't think I've ever been so knackered—I might actually have been asleep standing up for a moment when we were checking in."

Spike: (agreeing) "I quite fancy a fag, but it seems too much work."

Miranda: "I suppose we should get some rest—figure things out later."

Spike: "Yeah, guess so."

They're standing a couple of feet from the bed and they both look over at it wearily as if even taking the two steps to get to it is too much to ask. They don't move. They glance back over at each other and then shift awkwardly—eyes darting around. They haven't quite set the rules—it's not entirely clear at this point whether they're back to normal or not, despite their banter on the plane. Miranda thinks about reaching for her bag to find something to sleep in, but then hesitates. She is wondering if she should get undressed right there or if she should go into the bathroom. Spike, of course, doesn't actually have anything to sleep in and even he finds himself wondering if he should just get naked as usual. He frowns. Because they're so tired, neither can make a decision and they're simply stalled there in the middle of the room. After what seems like hours of awkward glances and shifting, Spike is the first to speak.

Spike: "This is kind of new, innit?"

They've never actually been awkward/uncomfortable with each other before—ever.

Miranda: (nervous laugh) "Completely and utterly unlike us. I feel like I'm on a first date or something, only our first date was much easier."

Spike: (pensive/serious) "I think we should do it."

Miranda: "And by 'it', you mean..."

Spike: (still very serious) "Shag. I think we should shag."

Miranda: "Yeah?" (Genuinely surprised—she didn't think it was an option in their current state.)

Spike: (trying to be logical) "The thing is, if we don't then there's all this awkward confusion about sleeping and clothes and touching and lord knows we're not in a state to talk about all that nonsense. But if we shag, it's all pretty straightforward—clothes off, fucking, then sleeping—touching before and after pretty much part of the package."

Miranda: "Makes sense. (frowning slightly) I suppose I should get in the shower."

Spike: (discouraging her) "I wasn't thinking anything fancy. Quick and dirty. Just the basics to, uh, seal the deal."

She's not sure whether it was the 'dirty' or the 'seal the deal' that made her knees get all wobbly, but whichever, her body was now aching in familiar places. Suddenly she can't conceive of how she considered letting a trifle such as complete physical and mental exhaustion get in the way of a little 'quick and dirty' with Spike. Surely there's a reserve of energy somewhere. Yep, there it is. Won't last long, so lets skip the foreplay. She finds herself calculating exactly how long it will take for them to strip off their clothes and then realizes that neither of them has actually moved yet and why is she wasting her time thinking at a time like this! Over these same few seconds, Spike sees the flush in her cheeks, senses her heart beating faster and more erratically and knows she likes his plan. If he had the mental energy, he'd probably be thinking about how he never thought he'd have her again—never see that wonderful flush in her cheeks, never feel her warmth underneath him. How he'd convinced himself that he could go on without her—find a replacement. But here they are. Seeing her, knowing that she's his again, he can't imagine what a fool he'd been to believe any of that bullshit. But his mind isn't that articulate at the moment—he just sees her and wants her and hopes to God that the gallons of liquor he's consumed over the past couple of days along with the lack of blood and sleep won't interfere with his ability to seal the deal. He smiles, feeling his body respond to the sight of her arousal. No worries. They move together into a kiss. He's pushing her backwards toward the bed as they both peel off their clothes. Though in their minds, it's a mad frenzy, they're actually moving somewhat slowly—as fast as their tired limbs will allow. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be this frantic with desire. It's like she's just woken up from a dream. The one thing she wouldn't let herself do once she decided to stay in L.A. was fantasize about Spike—that was entirely off limits and she closed her mind to it. She did her best to banish him—it was far easier to bury the physical memories than the rest of it. She had felt desire for Angel at times—heck, he was an attractive man—she'd even convinced herself that their relationship wasn't entirely devoid of passion after all. Heh. Maybe it wasn't, but what she is feeling right now is incomparable—this is sharp and clear and raw. She's awake now. The aching between her legs is almost unbearable. They're now horizontal on the bed. She guides his hand down the front of her trousers, under the front of her lace thong and pushes his fingers between her lips. They both gasp—the touch of his cool hand makes her clit throb. She's ready and he feels his erection twitch in anticipation. He pulls away from her, grabs hold of her pants, rips them in two and tosses them aside. She reaches for his pants, but he's already out of them, freeing his now rock hard knob. He wants to look at her for a moment—to enjoy the anticipation, but his body is unstoppable and he just spreads her legs and slides inside with one motion. She lets out a sharp squeal of pleasure. OH MY GOD. This is IT. This is EVERYTHING.

Spike moans; "Aw fuck, you feel like you're on fire. Jesus Christ."

After pausing for a moment, he starts thrusting—pushing himself in as deep as he can and pulling out almost his entire length before pushing back in. She keeps forgetting to breathe and then periodically gasps for air. He looks down at her, kisses her and grasps at her breasts as he pulls in and out.

Spike: "So beautiful. I missed you so much."

She closes her eyes in ecstasy. He picks up the pace a bit, pushing himself up taller.

Miranda: (breathless) "Spike, I love you."

He stops for a moment and you can tell he's trying desperately not to come.

Miranda: "It's Ok—don't wait for me. I'm probably too tired anyway."

He just smirks.

Spike: "We'll see about that." He pulls her left leg up and rests it on his chest—he then shifts her pelvis slightly beneath him and resumes thrusting. Within seconds, Miranda is squealing—her body covered in a fine sweat. He starts pounding harder in response to her shrieks.

Miranda: "Ok, maybe you can wait."

He smiles broadly. It doesn't take long. When she comes, she screams his name so loud, you could probably hear it three floors up. She's still writhing in pleasure when he pauses briefly to feel her orgasm take hold of and squeeze his cock inside her—that's it—he rams into her one more time as he releases everything he's got with a low moan and growl. It feels like buckets and goes on and on. By the time he's finished and his brain begins to function again, he notices she's started giggling. She laughs so hard, tears streak down her cheek.

Spike: "Giggles on the first time—I think that's a record."

Miranda: (in between laughs) "Guess I needed that".

Spike: (looking into her eyes) "I told you so".

Miranda: "You're pretty smart, you know that?"

Spike: "I'm fucking brilliant."

He leans in for a gentle kiss and her giggles slow to a stop. He rolls to the side and they're asleep within minutes.

A few hours later, Miranda wakes up and quietly sneaks out of bed. She rummages in her bag to pull out a t-shirt and looks at her watch, which is sitting on the bedside table. She finds her wallet and counts the cash she has in it, putting the bills on the table. She crawls back into bed and gently tries to wake Spike. He rolls over and smiles wearily.

Spike: "It can't possibly be time to get up yet."

Miranda: "Listen, I've got a plan and I don't want you to make a fuss. It's just dark now and the shops won't be open much later and I'm too spent to go out. I want you to bite me and then take some money and get us some supplies. (She's leaning on her elbow and he does the same, facing her. She takes a breath and in a softer, but serious tone, adds) I want you to take it all. You need the energy and I don't know how long it will take me to get my bearings here. (He starts to protest) I'll be fine. Take it all and I'll wake up in four or five hours—you can whoop it up in town or come back here and sleep some more."

Spike: "You're being silly—I'm not that close to wasting away."

Miranda: "Do it, love. I want to give you everything. I want a fresh start."

He just gives her his confused frown look and then nods.

Spike: "Now?"

She nods. He moves closer to her and pushes her onto her back. He kisses her on the lips and then down her cheek and slowly moves his lips to her neck. Involuntarily, she tenses up. He lifts her up off the pillow, changes and gently sinks his teeth into her neck. She can't stop herself from gasping. We hear the sound of him drinking and her eyes flutter and she's out. After a few moments, he pulls back. He licks the excess blood from her neck and then lays her back down on the pillow.

Spike: (Pushing the hair back from her face) "Sorry, love. Had enough silence and dead things." (You can see that she's still breathing.)

He gets up and puts on his clothes, not taking his eyes off her for more than is absolutely necessary. He grabs the money on the table and the room key and heads out the door.

tbc...


	31. Chapter 31

Sometime later. Spike is walking down a city street, smoking a cigarette. It's dark. He doesn't seem particularly purposeful—more like a leisurely stroll. He peers in some of the shop windows, but most everything is closed. After walking down a couple of streets, he starts to look a bit irritated and dives into a phone booth. He flips through the yellow pages until he finds what he's looking for and rips the page out. He finishes his cigarette, drops and steps on the butt and heads off, after glancing again at the page. We see him arrive at the corner he is looking for only to find the shop closed. Just as he is lighting up again, he notices a lit doorway up the street—he heads towards it. As he gets closer he sees that it's a record shop.

Spike: (to himself) "Got a bit of time to kill."

He strolls inside. It's small, but packed full of CD's. The room is long and thin, with a booth at the front with the cash register. There's no one in the shop, except a sales girl behind the counter who is flipping the pages of a magazine. She's cute—young, maybe 19. She looks the sort who would work in a record shop—she has a 'modern goth' look to her. Her hair is brown, but she's dyed some of the tips blue—her ears are pierced multiple times and she's wearing a diversity of rings and jewelry. Spike doesn't look at the girl, but heads straight back for the record stacks. Without noticeably looking up from her magazine, she watches him. He browses for a while, casually. After a few minutes, the girl steps out from behind the counter and walks towards him.

Shop Girl: (in a Scottish accent (no, I'm not going to try to write it that way)) "Can I help you find something?"

Spike: (He gives her a quick once-over before responding.) "Yeah, maybe. There's this song I'm trying to find. Don't know the name. Don't know who sings it. Don't know how old it is."

Shop Girl: "You English?"

Spike: "That a problem?"

Shop Girl: (shaking her head) "My boyfriend's English."

Spike: "Good for him."

Shop Girl: "Makes my dad crazy—lots a people 'round here get pissy about the English. All seems a bit silly to me."

Spike: "Uh, you think you can help me with the song, or do you just work here?'

Shop Girl: "Right. I know most of what we got here in the shop. You gonna sing it for me, or what?"

Spike: (smiles) "Sorry, I'm much too sober to sing. The bird who sings it s'got a very distinctive voice—loud and wailing, sort of. The chorus is something about "violently happy"."

Shop Girl: (Thinks about it for a moment and then, finishing the chorus) "...because I love you. Yeah, I know it. Bjork. (she starts to walk over to look for the CD) Wouldn't've thought you'd be shy about singing—thought maybe you were in a band or something from the look of you."

Spike: "I like to listen."

Shop Girl: (handing him the CD) "It's a good song."

Spike: "Don't really remember it much—heard it once in a club. My girlfriend liked it. We just got back together, so thought I'd pick up a copy." (Thinks to himself: Why did I just say that?)

Shop Girl: "That's brilliant. S'good to be romantic—get more action that way, dontcha?"

Spike: (smiles) "I do OK."

Shop Girl: "No doubt."

Spike: "So does it work for you?"

Shop Girl: "Hm, I don't need a reason. He's pretty sweet, though—my Jim. Got him a present when I was on holiday."

Spike: "Did he give you a good seeing to after?"

Shop Girl: "Haven't given 'him yet. Just got back last night. Think he'll like it?" (She flashes her new tongue piercing, suggestively.)

Spike: "Depends on what you plan on doing with it."

Shop Girl: "Supposed to be good for certain things. (She lets her eyes flash downwards) Ever tried it?"

Spike: "Not yet. (Then, deciding to scale back the flirtation a bit.) Do I have to buy the whole CD, or do you have the single?"

Shop Girl: "Don't have the single—you can listen to the rest if you like back in the corner there. You might like it."

He walks to the back of the store where there is a listening station. He fumbles with it for a bit, but can't get it to work. He waves her over and she pushes in a code to get it working.

Shop Girl: (handing him a couple of other CDs) "I brought a couple of others—new stuff you might like if you want to take a listen."

Spike: "Quiet night?"

Shop Girl: (laughs) "You're the first customer I've had. No one's out."

Spike: "Yeah, it seemed sort of deserted."

Shop Girl: "Heard something about gangs come up from London causing trouble—thrown the city into a bit of a tizzy. Most of the shops close after dark—I need the money, so I came in anyway. Slowest work day of my life—Jim's comin' to pick me up at 11."

Spike: (taking the CDs) "I've got no place to be—I'll give 'em a listen."

She hangs in the back with him for a bit—giving him some trivia on various bands and things. They chat and laugh a bit. In a few minutes, just as she starts to wander up to the front of the store, a group of four guys come in the front—they have the look of gang members. They start throwing stuff around and making a mess. She comes tearing up to the front, yelling at them. She threatens to call the police. They continue to grab what they want, ignoring her for the moment. One of them pushes her roughly into one of the display cases, causing it to fall over with a big crash.

Shop Girl: (suddenly afraid) "Go ahead and take what's in the till and then sod off."

Gang guy (GG#1): "Money's not what we're after, ya' silly bint." (He walks towards her, menacingly.)

Hearing the crash, Spike shuts off his headphones and notices what's happening at the front of the shop. He hesitates for a moment—he could just pocket the CDs and push off. It's not his business anyway. Then he shrugs, takes off the headphones, shoves the CD in his pocket and strolls up to the front of the store just as the GG is cornering the shop girl.

Spike: "Dibs."

They all turn to look at him.

GG#1: "What?"

Spike: "Dibs. I was here first, I got dibs on 'er"

GG#1: "You can't just call 'dibs' like that. (turning to the others) Can he?"

GG#2: "Nah, mate. She's ours."

GG#3: "Yeah, you left her alone at the front of the shop—finder's keepers."

Spike: "I was just taking my time. Don't you newbie nitwits know how to savor a kill?" (Thinking to himself—god, I sound like bloody Angelus.)

At this, SG looks over at Spike in shock and then darts behind the counter to hide.

GG#1: "And who the hell do you think you are, mate, talking to us like that?"

Spike: "Someone who's quite ready to dust the lot of you if you don't run along home to your nancy-boy sire, whoever he or she may be. It's rather obvious that none of you lot are heading up the local "gang". (He makes the quotation marks with his hands in a particularly condescending way) And while your at it, be sure to tell him or her that William the Bloody's in town and they'd better take care to stay out of my way."

GG#2: (mocking) "oooh, I'm pissin' my pants in fear, William."

Spike: "Geez, you leave Europe for a few years and suddenly you're a nobody again. Lucky for me, this is the part I like best."

With that, he punches the one closest to him hard enough to send him flying across the room. Soon, he's beating the crap out of the four of them (they're all in vamp face now). They get a few punches in and it's not easy, but he manages to dust three out of the four and then pummels the last one a while before kicking him out the door. As he does so he adds...

Spike: "And for future reference, I tend to get cranky when idiots like you use my given name, so if you want your head to continue to be attached to your body, call me Spike."

The vamp practically crawls out the door and then limps away. Spike wipes the blood from his mouth and changes back to his human face. He looks around and the trashed shop and can't help but smile a bit. Then he sees the shop girl peek up from behind the counter, timidly.

Spike: "It's Ok, they're gone."

She stands up slowly, looking terrified. She's starting to cry and her black mascara is running down her cheek. She wipes it off with her hand and tries to get a hold of herself. He's walked over to where she's standing.

Shop Girl: (voice shaking) "Listen, I'll do anything you want. The thing is, my boyfriend needs me. He's a bit of a mess and he'd go off his head if anything happened to me. Please, can you just take what you want without killing me? (trying to look seductive) I'd make it worth your while. Promise."

Spike: (Perplexed for a moment. Then tempted—I wonder what that little bob on her tongue would feel like. Shaking it off—Nah.) "Oh, right—that was all show. Tried to get the wankers to just shove off without trashing the place. Suppose you'll be out of a job for a bit 'till they fix the place up again—hope your boss has insurance."

Shop Girl: "You're not going to kill me, then?"

Spike: "Nah—not my thing anymore."

She is so relieved that she flops back down on the floor (sitting) and catches her breath a moment.

Spike: "You Ok? Think you might be bleeding a bit somewhere."

She looks up at him and then gets to her knees and moves toward him, reaching her hand out for his belt buckle.

Spike: (a bit surprised, steps back) "No need for that, love. Tempting, I'll admit, but uh, save it for your boyfriend. I'm not going to kill you, full stop—never was."

Sitting back on her ankles, she takes a deep breath and smiles.

Shop Girl: "You saved me, then."

Spike: "Yeah, well, don't make a big thing about it—didn't have anything better to do."

She gets to her feet and hugs him—he's a bit taken aback.

Shop Girl: "Thank you, thank you, thank you." (She kisses him on the cheek repeatedly.)

Spike: "Ok, this would be making a big thing." (He gently pushes her back.) "I think it's probably time to close up shop for the night. You live nearby?"

Shop Girl: (sniffling) "I stay with my gran when I'm working. It's just about a mile across town."

Spike: "I'd better walk you home—those four weren't the end of it."

Shop Girl: "What about Jim?"

Spike: "Leave 'im a note."

She nods and gathers her things. They leave and she locks the door behind her and leaves a little note taped to the door.

Shop Girl: "So are you...uh...they, vampires?"

Spike: "Good guess for a first try—spot on."

Shop Girl: "There've been stories floating about—everyone says it's bollocks—just kids dressing up, trying to be scary. A gang initiation thing."

Spike: "They aren't just kids. Best to stay inside after dark 'til things calm down."

Shop Girl: "But if you're a vampire, why did you fight them?"

Spike: (shrugs—a bit defensive) "It's not a club—we're not all pals and best friends."

Shop Girl: "Oh."

You can tell she wants to ask more questions, but his demeanor convinces her not to push it. They walk in silence for a while. They get to her apartment building—he walks her to her door. Just as she's opening it, he says.

Spike: "One more thing. This is very important. Don't invite any strangers in to your flat. Ever."

Shop Girl: "Hey Gran, I'm home—I've brought a friend with me."

Gran: "Come in, come in."

Spike: (shaking his head) "No, that's what I mean. Don't do that. Even if you think you know them." (to himself: it's amazing there's any of 'em left.)

Shop Girl: (dismissive) "Alright, alright. The only one we'll be expecting is Jim anyway tonight. No one else comes in." (He nods.)

Spike: "I'm off, then."

Shop Girl: "No, wait. Gran, this man saved my life tonight."

Gran: "Oh, bless. (suddenly animated, waving him in) Break out the sherry—we must drink to that."

Spike: (to SG, annoyed) "I thought we'd covered this." (But he's kind of liking the attention—that bothers him more than anything.)

30 minutes or so later, we see Spike leave—he's got a shopping bag. Once she found out he was headed to the shops (he'd tried using that as an excuse to leave), the old lady made sure he took every bit of food she had in the house. Whatever—will save him futzing about looking for a convenience store. About half way back the hotel, he realizes that he's missing his lighter. Must have fallen out during the fight. He goes back to the shop, breaks open the door and quickly finds it. He gets a few steps away and he sees someone step up to the shop and pull off the note attached to the door. He stops—he can sense it's another vampire. He sighs, puts the bag down and walks toward the vamp—he grabs the hand holding the note.

Spike: "I don't think that belongs to you. What're you, five minutes old?"

Vamp: "Back off, blondie. It is for me, see?" (with that, he pulls out an ID card.) "Yep, me and Shelly are gonna have ourselves a good time tonight—'least I know I will." (manic laugh)

Spike looks a little sad as he watches the vamp/Jim walk away. He reaches into the rubble of the shop and pulls out a piece of wood.

Spike: "Sorry, mate. Not gonna let that happen."

He comes up behind and dusts him. He tosses the piece of wood to the side and then lights a cigarette.

Spike: "Waste of a perfectly good tongue piercing."

He strolls over and picks up the bag of goodies and heads back down the street towards the hotel.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Back at the hotel (Scotland)

Miranda is up and pacing the room. She managed to order some room service and so has a bit more energy. She looks worried. She hears the key in the lock and lights up. It's Spike. As soon as he appears in the door, she runs up to him and jumps on him, wrapping her legs and arms around him.

Miranda: (manic stream of consciousness) "You came back! I was so sure you were going to leave me. I woke up and you hadn't done what I'd asked—_naughty boy_—and then I waited and waited and saw the money was gone and I started to think that you'd decided to leave me and get your revenge, which would be totally justified, of course. But then I talked myself out of it and couldn't decide whether to shower in preparation for the make-up sex or if I should wait so we could shower together and then I decided to wait, but then I kept thinking you might not come back and I'd be waiting and waiting and I'd be like Miss Havisham, except instead of a rotting wedding dress, I'd just get smellier and smellier until they threw me out of the hotel and...I'm just so glad you came back." (She's kissing his face.)

Spike: (laughing) "You been drinking coffee again? Watch the champagne bottles." (In one of the bags he's holding.)

Miranda: (getting down) "Right. Sorry. (eyes brighten) You got champagne?"

Spike: (duh) "Now how would we have a sexathon without champagne?"

Miranda: "What've you been doing? Besides buying me goodies."

Spike: (Pause while he considers whether or not to tell her about the shop girl. Shrugs.) "Whooping it up, just like you said."

She smiles broadly and hugs him again.

xxxxxxxxxx

Many hours later. Empty bottles and half-filled glasses everywhere, along with food of various kinds scattered about. Some chairs are knocked over. Pan to the bed, where Miranda is naked under a sheet. She's got the remote control for the TV in one hand and is sleepily flipping through the channels—she's looking very satisfied. Spike comes in from the bathroom, naked, holding a piece of fabric.

Spike: "I think I got most of the blood out of the curtain—don't see why it matters."

Miranda: "I'd like to be able to stay in this hotel again someday."

Spike slips under the sheet next to her and spoons her from behind. He runs his hands over her shoulder and down her arm, nibbling on her neck. She laughs.

Miranda: "That tickles."

Spike: "Do we still have ice?"

Miranda: "Yeah, in the champagne bucket. Why?"

Spike: "Just like to be familiar with all my options."

Miranda: "OH MY GOD."

Spike: "What?"

Miranda: "That can't possibly be what I think it is. (Spike just nestles up tighter and smiles a very naughty little smile) Tell me you've brought a banana into the bed."

Spike: (he purrs) "Just pleased to see you, love"

Miranda: "It's not possible. I simply do not understand vampire circulation. Where does it all come from?"

Spike: "I've been saving it up"

Miranda: "I seem to remember your mentioning something about leaving quite a lot of it in Rio."

Spike: "Maybe I exaggerated just a tad."

Miranda: "Well, the answer is no. Absolutely not. I thought we were going to watch the Vicar of Dibley."

Spike: "Come on, pet. Just once more."

Miranda: "Spike, my parts are about ready to pack up and leave town—they have been pummeled from every conceivable angle. The room smells like a brothel. (Flash to her remembering all their naughty deeds in the room—in the chair, over the couch, in the closet, on the coffee table. Ooh, and lets not forget the shower.) It's going to take a couple of hours before I can even take a wee without having to have a drink first to ease the pain. No, I'm sorry but my bits are done for the night."

Spike: "I'm sore too, love, but we're just so close to the record."

Miranda: "There's a record?"

Spike: "Well, I'm sure there must be and we've got to be near it. (She rolls her eyes.) And there are certain bits that have yet to be explored." (As he says this, he runs his index finger down the center of her back, stopping just short of her butt cheeks.)

Miranda: (Weakening. She lets out a slight moan/sigh) "I suppose it's not beyond the realm of possibility. For the record. Just take it easy, alright?"

Spike: (he smiles) "I won't twist your arm too hard. (he whispers) Close your eyes."

He pulls the sheet back, revealing her naked body. He runs his fingers over her birthmarks, tracing the outside edge. He leans in closer and does the same with his tongue—flicking it lightly across the bottom edge and out to the tip. He pulls back an inch or two.)

Spike: "Ever consider getting a tattoo there? They could make 'em look more like real wings. Hang on a minute. (He reaches on the table for a black marker, which he then uses to draw on her back—she giggles at the touch of it. He draws two wings extending out from her birthmarks, complete with squiggles made to look like feathers) That's better. 'Course we'll have to find a place for the 'SPIKE'—maybe right here in the middle" (He writes his name between her shoulder blades—she laughs.)

Gratuitous smut ensues (edited for your young and bashful eyes. ahem.).

End Part V


	32. Chapter 32 begin Part 6

AN: This is actually the second chapter I've posted today (12/6).

Part 6

Writer's note: Ok, so I got a bit off track there for a minute. Ahem. Obviously that last bit was not being told to Spike by Miranda in their hotel room in L.A.—although we were still actually (technically) in flashback. Confused yet? Um, there are a couple of more scenes in pseudo-flashback before we get back to the present (for good). BUT, before that, we need to make a quick visit. Now are you confused?

Scene 1

L.A. hotel room. The present. Miranda has just finished telling her tale—ending with her conversation with Angel at the airport (this was the last thing he wouldn't have known). Spike gets out of bed and pulls his pants on hastily, without looking at her. He picks up a pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and lights one up. He leans back, partially sitting on the dresser off to the side of the bed. He's tense—trying very hard to not lose it. He doesn't say anything.

Miranda: "I told you, you wouldn't like it."

He looks angrily off to the side and takes a deep breath.

Spike: "So you would have stayed, then."

Miranda: "I don't know."

Spike: "You left because of the curse. If there wasn't a curse, you would've stayed." (He's simply reviewing what he sees to be the facts.)

Miranda: "It's not that simple."

Spike: (getting angrier) "Oh, I don't know. Seems pretty straightforward to me. You told him you...were happy (he can't bring himself to say the 'L' word). So if you were happy, you'd have no reason to leave—unless you were lying to him. Were you lying to him?"

Miranda: "Please don't do this."

Spike: (raising his voice slightly) "Wereyoulyingtohim?"

Miranda: (resigned) "No."

Spike: (the word stings him. bitter.) "Ok, then. Glad we straightened that out."

He's not quite sure why he is letting himself get so worked up. In some ways, the truth was better than what he had imagined. Still, hearing it invokes the pain they'd been so cleverly avoiding these past two months.

Miranda: (Not really knowing what to say—she'd like to say something about things happening for a reason, but it sounds like a cop-out.) "Nothing I can say will make this better. So what's the point, love? We've been happy these past two months, haven't we? I'm sure you won't believe me now when I say that despite everything, I've never been happier. Maybe someday. (beat) You are my life. (Confessing, in a whisper) If I were to lose you now, it would wreck me. So if that's what you want..." (Her voice trails off as she squints up her eyes and looks down.)

Spike: "Are you done?" (He's softening, but his tone when he says this is still a tad bitter.)

Miranda: (Her voice is shaking) "No. One more. I know they're just words, but...(she looks him straight in the eye again) If we walk in there tomorrow and he were to tell me that the curse had been lifted and he wanted me back, I wouldn't consider it for an instant. I'd tell him to bugger off."

Spike: "And I should believe you because...?"

Miranda: (Tears of frustration—she knows there's no reason why he should trust what she says. Defeated.) "No reason."

Spike: "Wrong answer."

Miranda: (confused) "What?"

Spike: "I overheard you talking to Buffy before—heard what you said about Angel."

xxxxxx

Begin Flashback

Sunnydale. About a week or two after Spike and Miranda have returned from Europe. They've been mostly keeping to themselves (not wanting to deal with everyone's reactions), with the main exception being that Miranda has had a couple of conversations with Dawn—her motherliness has now changed a bit into big-sisterliness. There's a wonderful warmth between them—Dawn has always been the most accepting of Miranda's relationship with Spike and so Miranda is comfortable telling her all about their adventures in Europe and Dawn loves being her confidant. Dawn was also the only one to express anger at Miranda for leaving Spike (Anya was just mad that she left Sunnydale). At the same time, Miranda has had a number of very awkward/strained interactions with Buffy. This scene starts when Buffy and Miranda find themselves alone in the Magic Box.

Buffy walks in the front door. She sees Miranda at the counter, flipping through a book.

Buffy: (Based on their previous encounters this week, Buffy is a bit cautious/awkward) "Miranda. Hi. Have you seen Dawn? I can't remember if we were going to meet here or at the library."

Miranda: (sarcastic) "Buffy. I see you're parenting skills have much improved over these last months. Would it be Taco Bell or McDonalds for dinner tonight? (under her breath) Heaven forbid you pick up a cookbook."

Buffy: (Annoyed, but not wanting to get into it) "Has she been here?"

Miranda: "No. I wouldn't worry. She's probably met a lovely young man on the internet and is right now on her way to meet her destiny. Perhaps you should just rush off to the Bronze to meet your friends instead."

Buffy: "What IS your problem? I'm thinking it's just with me, since everyone else seems to think you haven't actually gone insane."

Miranda: "Don't be silly. How could I possibly have a problem with little miss perfect? Forgive me if I don't jump to worship your perky little slayer ass every time we meet." (Even Miranda is surprised by the intensity of her own bitchiness. Huh.)

Buffy: "Oh. My. God. No one has been this bitchy to me since Cordelia left town. If this is about what I said on the phone..."

Miranda: "On the contrary, I was quite impressed with your mastery of the art of the four-letter word. Although, I think my favorite was when you called me...what was it now? Oh yes, a skanky ho-bag tramp. That was just lovely."

Buffy: (honestly regretting those words) "I'm sorry—I lost my temper. You'd just dropped the bomb that you'd broken up with Angel and it all came flooding out."

Miranda: "You know, it's not about that. I guess you simply bring out the bitch in me. (thinking about it) Or maybe, I was just better at hiding my feelings before."

Buffy: (this stings) "Why do you say those things? We were friends."

Miranda: "I was thinking about giving up friends for lent this year."

Buffy: (angry arms, ANGRY ARMS. Big sigh of frustration.) "I SO don't need this. If you don't want to be friends anymore, fine. Just stay out of my way—I've got a pretty mean temper these days." (She turns to leave. Angel said she'd be different, but GEEZ.)

Miranda: (feeling a bit guilty—she really doesn't know why she's been feeling such hostility towards Buffy) "Buffy, wait."

Buffy turns around and folds her arms.

Buffy: "What? Thought of another good burn?"

Miranda: (Kind of rolling her eyes and shifting around like a little kid who was forced to apologize to someone by their mother.) "I've been meaning...(deep breath)...Thanks for not killing Spike."

Buffy: (A bit taken aback.) "Oh. No problem. Past coupla years, I've sorta made a thing of not killing Spike, so it wasn't much of a stretch."

Miranda: (still in 'little kid' apology) "Well, he said you were nice to him, so thanks for that."

Buffy: (soft voice) "Welcome. (She's been wanting to say something, too, but due to the aforementioned hostility has held back. They stand there for a moment, both looking like awkward kids.) What you did for Angel—that was...unbelievable. He's all buried under a heaping mound of guilt about it, but that's just the way he deals with things. You've given him something I didn't think was possible to give and he does deserve it. So, thanks for _that_."

Miranda: "So he told you. Should've known he'd go rushing off to his Buffy."

Buffy: "I went to see him—make sure he was OK."

Miranda: (back to bitchy voice—she can't seem to shake that) "And did he whine to you about how dreadful I was to him—how I was cold and insensitive?"

Buffy: "It hurt, but he doesn't blame you. Kinda funny, 'cause I'm the one person uniquely qualified to understand what that's like."

Miranda: (Understanding that it must have been hard for Buffy to talk to him and knowing that her visit probably did ease some of his pain, she reigns in her attitude. Shrugging.) "Yeah, well, maybe he'll save a bunch of people or end an apocolypse in the next few years and you two can get a house with a white picket fence and live happily-ever-after fighting evil together or something."

Buffy: (confused) "Oh, I assumed that was kinda your plan. Well, minus the picket fence—guessing that's not quite your style."

Miranda: (laughing) "What? Me and Angel? Good lord, no. We make a dreadful couple. You and your schoolyard chums may find this a bit hard to believe—in fact I'll bet it'll take some convincing before Spike will believe me when I tell him—but given the choice, forgetting the curse for the moment, I'd be with Spike in a heartbeat. But life gets complicated sometimes and you have to make choices. Angel is a wonderful man—he was good to me. I suppose I did love him—must've done, right?—else we'd be back where we started from. But it was a different kind of love entirely—I loved the idea of him and of his loving me. What I feel for Spike is more...(pause as she tries to find a way to express it)...well, just more. I don't think I properly appreciated it before. It's wonderful to know someone and be known—we're made of the same stuff, he and I. As they say, different strokes...So, no, thank you—Angel's all yours. You two deserve each other. (with a tiny smirk) I mean that in the best possible way, of course." :)

Buffy: (Scrunching up her face—not being able to fathom anyone choosing Spike over Angel.) "You sure Angel is clear on this? 'Cause when we talked, I got the impression that he has different plans for the long term."

Miranda: "Really? Well, feel free to set him straight next time you see him."

Buffy: "No, I think that is definitely something that needs to come from you."

Miranda: "Well I've got no plans to talk to him in the foreseeable future. In fact, L.A. is the last place you should look for me in the next decade or so—I plan to avoid that place like the plague. And anyway, I'm so bored with talking."

Buffy: "Now THAT, I find hard to believe."

Miranda: (laugh) "Ooh, nice one. (waving it off) Eh, he'll be fine."

Spike: (appearing from the basement) "Who'll be fine?"

Miranda: "No one important, love."

End Flashback

xxxxx

Miranda: (hopeful; a flash of a smile) "So that's why you were so willing to go to L.A. (pause) So, uh...?" (Facial expression indicating that she's hoping they're finished talking about this.)

Spike: (feeling better) "Give me three questions, and then we're done."

Miranda: "Three?"

Spike: "Yeah, three sounds like a good number to wrap things up."

Miranda: (dubious/worried) "Go on then."

Spike: "Uh. (thinking about it—it's obvious he didn't have three in mind) How many times did you have sex?"

Miranda: (shaking her head, disgusted) "You're not seriously going to waste a question on that?"

Spike: "It's a perfectly valid question. So?"

Miranda: "God, I don't know. It's not like I kept a tally. (He just raises his eyebrows expectedly. She thinks about it for a moment, reluctantly) 30, maybe 35 times."

Spike: (doing a quick calculation in his head (3 months, 12 weeks…); then looking a bit surprised) "But that's not even three times a week. Pathetic. We beat that in the first three weeks."

Miranda: "I told you our relationship wasn't based around sex."

Spike: (shaking his head; hint of a smile) "That's just silly. He is _such_ a loser."

Miranda: "Next question."

Spike: "What's the worst thing he ever did to you? You know, aside from the whole not telling you about the curse business."

Miranda: "He called me Darla once."

Spike: (He can see how this would sting) "No shit. When you were, uh..."(wink wink, nudge nudge)

Miranda: "Just about. He'd been a bit of a wanker all evening—I'd gone out with Duncan to a cocktail party as a personal favor. It was a business thing and he needed a date. He's recently lost his latest love and wasn't in the mood to have to entertain a proper date, so he asked me. We met Angel afterwards for a drink—unusual for him, he actually joined us for some scotch. I noticed something was awry after his fourth glass—he's such a puritanical bastard, he never has more than one. Suffice it to say, due to Angel's unwarranted jealousy, it became a bit of a pissing contest and I dragged him off home. I was annoyed and let it be known once we got back to the hotel—he was all hands, though and after pushing him away a couple of times, he comes out with a "Come on, Darla, you know you're always up for it." (Spike makes an 'ouch' face) Yeah. Bastard slept in the hall that night. (more serious) I think it was his particular choice of ex-girlfriends that was so very telling—not about to call me Buffy, now was he?"

This last bit brings the mood down a bit—Spike could sense that it really bothered her for Angel to think of her that way.

Spike: (more serious) "Did you make him tea? In the mornings, did you bring him tea?"

Miranda: (still in light-hearted mode—not noticing that Spike is a bit more somber. She's relieved to have such an easy last question) "I suppose I did. Thank God he wasn't a coffee drinker—don't think I could stand having to fiddle with one of those insipid coffee machines."

Spike stands up and walks toward the door to the balcony without saying anything. He goes outside and leans against the railing, frowning. Miranda is surprised by this—she thought they'd made it through the tough bits. She wraps the sheet around her and quickly follows.

Miranda: "What's wrong, love?"

He's turned to face her (his back is to the railing of the balcony), but is looking at the ground, obviously upset again. He just shrugs. She steps closer and tries to touch him—he just shifts awkwardly.

Miranda: (Assuming he's still upset about their earlier conversation.) "I only said it him once—I've told you a thousand times, at least. It'll be a million before I'm through."

And with this, she starts whispering softly, over and over "I love you". She gets closer and closer each time she says it and you can tell despite his resistance, it's getting to him. Finally, he puts his hands on her shoulders and touches his forehead to hers.

Spike: (in his hoarse/upset voice, he says softly) "I hate that you made him tea." (His eyes are slightly wet.)

Miranda: "I know."

They stay like that for a while and then head back into the room and into bed. They fall asleep, exhausted. A couple hours later, we see Miranda squirming in her sleep—she is obviously having a nightmare. She's whimpering, slightly. Soon she is thrashing and then wakes up with a gasp, wide eyed—she is shaking. Spike is awake and waiting—they've been through this before many times. He pulls her shaking body to him and holds her tightly as he strokes her hair and tries to calm her.

Spike: "Do you want to take a pill this time?" (She shakes her head, no. He continues to cradle her and after a while, she starts to breath more regularly and her muscles loosen and she stops shaking. All that remains is the sweat on her forehead.) "It's been a while, hasn't it, since the last one. All this talk, I suppose."

Miranda: (She's trying to take her mind off it) "I saw you once, in a dream—in his memory. I never told you."

Spike: "Yeah?" (He looks a little concerned.)

Miranda: "You and Drusilla. (pause) I saw the way you looked at her."

Spike: (remembering something) "That when you got all weird for a few days in Rome? Figured it was just all the catholics about."

Miranda: (nods) "It was hard to see, is all. You looked at her like you've never looked at me."

Spike: "Guess we're even, then."

She looks confused for a moment, then realizes he's talking about that time with Cal at the house. She doesn't think it was anywhere near the same, but she nods her head.

Scene 2

The next day. Duncan's shop in L.A.

Angel, Gunn, Wesley and Cordelia arrive (they all shake hands with Duncan) and they all go into a back room to discuss plans for the next evening. Duncan had specifically planned to have Angel et al. arrive before Miranda. It's 6:30pm.

Gunn: (to Duncan) "So when's this thing due to arrive?"

Angel: "Shouldn't we wait for Miranda?"

Duncan: "I asked her to come by at 7. I thought we should have some time alone."

Angel: "Why's that?"

Duncan: "Judging by her reaction when I told her I'd hired you, I'm thinking it might all be a bit awkward. She was hopping mad. (to Angel) You alright working with her?"

Angel: "Fine. Not a problem."

Cordelia makes a little 'hm' noise, which Duncan hears. Angel just gives her a look.

Duncan: "Truth be told, and I hate to say this as we've been friends for almost a century, I don't know that I trust her fully. She seems not quite herself."

Wesley: (shooting a look over to Angel) "How do you mean?"

Duncan: "Well, for starters, she bloody well tried to kill me the last time we met."

Angel: (in her defense) "Isn't that what you do? I thought that was part of the Immortal deal."

Duncan: (flustered) "Well, yeah, but not us."

Angel: (deadpan) "But strictly speaking, an Immortal trying to kill another Immortal is not exactly unusual behavior."

Duncan: (frowning) "Strictly speaking, no. But we do have understandings and Miranda's never been one to pick a fight. She wasn't herself, I tell you. Good thing her boyfriend stepped in and talked some sense into her."

This inspires a very deep frown from Angel.

Wesley: (trying to change the subject) "Why don't you tell us again what you know about this sword."

Duncan: "People—other Immortals call it 'Lucifer's Sword'. I don't know why. It's attained sort of a mythic status—no one's actually seen it for centuries. Word is that whoever wields it can't be beaten. No one seems to be clear on its origin. Some say it was stolen from Mount Olympus—or that it was forged by Hephaestos and given to an Immortal bent on hedging his bets come the Gathering."

Gunn: "That's the final battle, right? Winner takes all?"

Duncan: "Last one standing gets the Prize"

Gunn: "Still not clear on what that means, exactly."

Duncan: (shrugs, with a little laugh) "Neither am I. Neither is anyone, but still we fight. We know it's something big, though, and that it probably ties into humanity's future."

Angel: "So this isn't just Immortal business."

Wesley: "Whoever gets the sword, wins the Prize."

Duncan: "Only if the stories are true."

Gunn: "Just in case, we'd all sleep a bit better knowing that it didn't go to some wack job Immortal bent on world domination."

Duncan: "I think that sums it up nicely. We have no way of knowing for sure what the sword's origin is or even if it has any true power at all. My feeling is that we need to secure the sword and destroy it, regardless, to keep it from falling into the wrong hands because we have too much to lose if the stories are true. The Immortal who last had it was the oldest known—he'd gone a bit mad, poor fellow—driven into isolation by other Immortals' constant quest to take the sword from him. Joseph knew him. Last time they spoke, the old one had admitted to making arrangements for the sword in the event of his death by other means—(explaining) the wielder of the sword is only unbeatable in battle. As I told you last time we spoke, I've had a series of encrypted messages these past weeks, indicating that the sword is on its way here—probably intended for Joseph. I wanted to involve as few Immortals as possible in this, but felt I should bring in Miranda."

Gunn: "Because she's on the right side in all this."

Angel: "Because the sword belongs to her, doesn't it? She killed Joseph—the sword goes to her."

Duncan: "Technically, yes. That's the way we'd worked it out...(pause)...before. But I'm hoping to convince her that it should be destroyed. Who knows what her reaction will be—it was hard enough convincing her to come down here at all. I neglected to mention the 'destroying' part."

Begin flashback

Where we left off with Buffy, Miranda and Spike in the Magic Shop. Spike's just come up from the basement.

Miranda's cell phone rings. She looks around, rather dubious—who would be calling? Only Spike knows her new number and he's here. As she's answering it, Spike says:

Spike: "Forgot to tell you—That Immortal friend of yours, Duncan, called this afternoon. I gave him your number."

Miranda: "Hello?"

Duncan: "Miranda, thank God. I've been trying to get a hold of you for weeks."

Miranda: "We just got our phone hooked up yesterday. Sorry. Didn't think you'd be in a rush to get in touch."

Duncan: "Well, I'm afraid something rather urgent has come up. Immortal business of a critical nature. Critical enough that I'm prepared to put up with your homicidal mood swings. I need you to come down to L.A. right away."

Miranda: "No."

Duncan: "What? You haven't even heard what it's about yet."

Miranda: "As far as I'm concerned, L.A. doesn't exist anymore. Sorry, find someone else."

Spike gives her a little smile.

Duncan: (deep sigh) "I know this place has terrible memories for you, but believe me, you can't afford to sit this one out."

Miranda: "I'm sure you can handle it, Duncan. You're always on top of these sorts of things."

Duncan: "I need your help, Miranda. I wouldn't've called if it wasn't very important."

Miranda: "Not interested."

Duncan: "I really didn't want to discuss this on the phone, but it's about Lucifer's Sword."

Miranda: (This gives her pause for a moment—every Immortal has heard the stories. But she looks over at Spike and shakes it off) "I don't care if bloody Lucifer himself is in L.A., ripping the city apart piece by piece, I'm not coming down there."

Buffy: "Lucifer?" (Suddenly paying attention.)

Miranda, gives her a dismissive wave, indicating that she wasn't being literal. At this point, Buffy quietly leaves through the front door—it's a bit too awkward to stay.

Duncan: "Don't you have any sense of duty? Joseph made his decision for a reason—you really going to throw that away?

Miranda: (Her tone changes—Spike notices and looks concerned.) "I guess he made a mistake—I'm not the sort for heroics."

Duncan: "Is Spike there?"

Miranda: "Yes, why?"

Duncan: "Put him on the phone."

Miranda: "What? Why do you want to talk to him?"

Duncan: "Miranda, please, just put him on the bloody phone."

She shrugs and thrusts the phone towards Spike.

Miranda: "He wants to talk to you."

Confused frown from Spike—he takes the phone.

Spike: "Yeah"

Duncan: "Listen, mate, you seem a pretty reasonable sort. You talked sense into her before in Prague. I can't go into a lot of details on the phone, but if you care at all about Miranda's future, you'll convince her to come down."

Spike: "You're going to have to do better than that, mate, to convince me to drag her kicking and screaming back to that hell hole."

Duncan: "There's a weapon—powerful enough to defeat any Immortal—on its way here as we speak. If the wrong people get it, the first thing they're going to do is track down every Immortal in a 100 mile radius and take 'em out one by one. Powerful as she is now, she wouldn't have a bloody chance—heck, neither would I. I need her help to make sure that doesn't happen. Better?"

Spike: (obviously frustrated/conflicted. He doesn't say anything for a minute. Then, under his breath) "FUCK. It's like a bloody black hole (to Duncan) Right, we'll call you back." (He closes up the phone.)

Miranda: (eyeing him suspiciously) "What?"

Spike: "As much as it pains me to say it, we should go to L.A."

Miranda: "No fucking way. Sorry. It's entirely out of the question."

Spike: (sigh) "It's a big city, love. Certain places can be avoided."

Miranda: "How can you even suggest it? I thought we'd agreed that LA was off limits."

Spike: "Well for you alone, yeah—don't trust you for a minute in that town. But I'd come with you."

Miranda: "What if...(her voice gets quiet)...I can't put you through that."

She's thinking about if they ran into Angel—that Spike would feel humiliated because he doesn't really know the full story at this point—he thinks she left him for Angel and that's what Angel thinks too...So the thought of him having to be anywhere near Angel just seems too painful to bear.

Spike: "Thought you'd put me in charge of this sort of thing."

Miranda: (skeptical) "I don't see how this is _that _kind of thing at all."

Spike: "This weapon—you'd heard of it."

Miranda: (shrugs) "Lucifer's Sword? Sure—every Immortal has. Doesn't make it real."

Spike: "Trust me—I've had some experience with this—sometimes the fairy tales aren't just for the kiddies." (He's thinking about the Ring of Amarra.)

Miranda: "So what if it is. (shrugs) We could run if we had to."

Spike: (He's plotting—maybe a flash of devlish!Spike.) "Or...consider this. We go to LA and get the sword. That'd make you invincible, right? Least that's what Duncan made it sound like."

Miranda: "Well, I suppose in terms of other Immortals it would. But I don't really care about that anymore." (She's made a point that _he_ is the most important thing to her now.)

Spike: (His voice is soft and low—almost seductive. She's looking at him curiously.) "Indulge me for just a moment, love. You being inv...unbeatable means you'd never have to live in fear of other Immortals. In fact, one could make the leap that if you possessed such a weapon, you could—if you wanted—use it to secure the elusive Prize that you lot seem to be so fixated on. (He moves closer to her—they lock eyes. He brings his hand up to her face and touches it softly) And what would that mean?"

Miranda: (it's almost a question) "I could have whatever I wanted. I could change things. Maybe."

Spike: (in a whisper) "That's right."

Miranda: (Leaning into him—engrossed in his stare—full of emotion.) "Should I tell you what I'd wish for?"

Spike: (Smiling—he knows he's got her. He tilts his heads slightly.) "I already know, pet."

Miranda: "Guess you'd better call Duncan back then."

End Flashback.

Resume previous scene (back in Duncan's shop).

Duncan: "I also failed to mention your group's involvement—hence the subsequent phone tantrum when I called after she'd arrived."

(Writer's note: I have a vague memory of having written Miranda's reaction to finding out she was expected to work with Angel and his crew, but I can't find it. So I guess I must have left it out. Oh, the trouble with flashbacks—it's so easy to get lost.)

Wesley: "Any idea why anyone other than an Immortal would be interested in the sword? You'd mentioned demonic monks."

Duncan: "That's the main reason why I decided to involve you. I'd heard some disturbing reports from friends in Europe that a group of robed monks had ransacked the old one's shack. It's unclear whether or not they were the ones who'd killed him, but nonetheless, they were obviously after the sword. I have no idea why. They could be working for or with one of the Dark Immortals."

Gunn: "Monks again? (to Angel) Gah, since I started working for you, I can't look at monks the same way anymore—is it just me, or are they always evil?"

Angel: (deadpan) "Most of the time. Not always."

Wesley: "And what about these Dark Immortals?"

Gunn: "And don't be telling me they're black, else I'm going to have to get all 'Al Sharpton' on your ass."

Duncan: "Just power-hungry, run-of-the-mill evil, basically. Definitely not the sort you'd expect to give a rats ass about the future of mankind. Well, actually, they'd be quite content to put the world to work for them. I'll give the details of who of that sort is likely to be involved once Miranda gets here. Were you able to find anything out about the monks, based on the description I gave you the other night?"

Wesley: "We've narrowed it down to a few possibilities. Gunn has been able to get some information from one of our informants indicating that whoever they are, they're not working in isolation. So it is likely that they are working for someone—who exactly, we haven't been able to ascertain for certain. A few ancient artifacts have gone missing from the shops around town that deal in such things. I'm putting together a list to see what they have in common."

Angel: "A ritual of some sort?"

Wesley: "That would be my guess. Perhaps the sword is the key to it."

Gunn: "Or the ritual will help them get it."

Wesley: "There are any number of possibilities."

Angel: "We'll keep working on it tonight—hopefully, we'll have something before the Sword arrives."

Duncan: "There's one more thing. Another group we should keep our eyes out for who will go after the sword. Mortals—ex-Watchers. Did Miranda explain the Watchers to you?"

Angel: "She said they don't interfere."

Duncan: "These do—a group of radicals bent on controlling the destiny of the Immortals."

Gunn: "demonic monks, Dark Immortals and radicals—sounds like a party to me."

Angel: (to Duncan) "We don't kill humans"

Duncan: (nods) "Hopefully it won't come to that—if it does, Miranda and I will take responsibility. Speaking of Miranda, she should be here any minute."

tbc...


	33. Chapter 33

Scene 3

Hotel room, L.A., 6pm Thursday.

Miranda and Spike are asleep on the bed. They're spooning with Miranda on the outside—her hand is resting on his upper back. She is the first to stir. Sleepily, she reaches for a watch on the bedside table. Seeing the time, she sighs and pulls the covers off them both. Spike whines a complaint and turns over onto his back, blinking wearily.

Miranda: "We're expected in just over an hour. So much for dinner. (She kisses his shoulder and starts to get out of bed) I'll just dive in the shower—that'll give you another 10 minutes."

Spike just grunts. But as she steps around to head into the bathroom he grabs her hand to stop her.

Spike: (He rolls over and leans up on his elbow.) "Don't shower."

Miranda: (She frowns, an eye-rolley kind of frown. They haven't showered since they had sex last night.) "I'm not a bloody fire hydrant."

Spike: (mock incredulous) "You calling me a dog?"

Miranda: "I'm just saying, I'll have no territory marking today."

Spike: (letting go of her hand. Defiant.) "Well, _I'm_ not showering."

Miranda: (big sigh) "This is not going to happen, (scolding) _William_. Need I remind you how important it is that all goes well this evening? Do you really want to provoke him?"

Spike: (ignoring her questions—casual observation) "You know, you always call me William when you're angry."

Miranda: (a bit taken aback by the change of subject, but going with it. Considering) "Well, I suppose it's easier to inject a bit of tone into 'William'. You can really get your mouth around it. 'Spike', not so much. And it sounds rather silly to scold a 'Spike', whereas a 'William' is much more likely to have a mother looking after 'im so it just fits." (She's smiling now)

Spike: "I think you should call me William all the time."

Miranda: (surprised) "What, in front of other people?"

Spike: "Yeah."

Miranda: (still skeptical) "Seriously?"

Spike: "I like the sound of it when _you_ say it."

Miranda: "Alright. I'll give it a go, so long as you promise not to change your mind again. (seriously considering it) What about if I'm referring to you in the third person?"

Spike: "Do what you like."

Miranda: "Fine. But I haven't forgotten about the shower. (smiling) William."

Spike: "Go on then."

Miranda: "We can go together. I'll wash your hair—give you a nice scalp massage." (She makes 'massage' finger motions.)

Spike: (putting on his bored expression) "Nah—don't feel like it. Besides, water shortages and everything—bad for the environment."

Miranda: (reaching in her bag, pulling something out) "I've got a loofah." (she waves it cheerily)

Spike: "You'll have to do better than that, love."

Miranda: "Can't we just go for the high road on this? It's the last thing he'll expect."

Spike: "I'm pretty sure there's an insult buried in there somewhere. What else you got?"

Miranda: (looking anxiously at the clock) "We're running out of time."

Spike: "Fine. I'll be dressed by the time you get out."

Miranda: (Ok, so it's a game now. Thinking of something) "I'll let you shave my legs...(He inadvertently raises an eyebrow)...and if you accidentally were to slip and nick my skin with the razor and there were a few drops of blood, it'd be alright, 'cause you'd be right there to lick it up and make it better."

Spike: (mock jealousy) "I see. So you want to have smooth legs when we see him, then?"

Miranda: (Sigh. She drops off the nightgown she was wearing. In a more seductive voice.) "The thing is, I may be a bit too tired to reach all the nooks and crannies that need washing—and I'm such a dirty girl. (She starts moving her hands over her body, as if inspecting herself.) Yes, I'll definitely need some help. Oh, and I'd return the favor, only I might have to use my tongue to reach the places my hands won't go."

Spike: (He's trying hard to keep a straight face) "Sorry, not in the mood."

Miranda: (She lets out a disbelieving laugh) "Yeah, you might want to have a little talk with certain other parts of your anatomy that are most definitely in the mood." (She indicates the tent he's now pitching with the sheet.)

Spike: (looking down; exasperated) "Bloody...(shakes his head and smiles)...the high road it is." (He gets up and throws Miranda over his shoulder and takes her to the bathroom) "But was that an either/or situation, or do I get all of it?" (She just giggles)

xxxxx

Sometime later...

They are finishing getting dressed and are just about to head off.

Spike: "You set?"

Miranda: "Yeah, I think so. D'you mind walking?"

Spike: "Doesn't matter—I could use some air" (It's just getting to be dusk. He opens the door.)

Miranda: "Hang on a minute." (He turns around and Miranda saunters up to him with a bit of a wicked grin. She dives for his neck.)

Spike: "Uh, what do you think you're doing?"

Miranda: (breaking away from the neck sucking for a moment) "Giving you a love bite."

Spike: (he leans back and lets her finish) "'think I can learn to like the high road."

xxxxx

Switch scenes: Back at Duncan's place, where the others are waiting.

Angel: (to Duncan) "So you don't know who killed the previous holder of the sword?"

Duncan: "No. Like I said, the priests were seen ransacking the place. When they were done, they set it on fire. I think it's unlikely that they were the ones to kill him. Probably was an Immortal, but haven't heard anyone taking credit for it yet."

Gunn: "Are there ever evil nuns? That's something I wouldn't mind seeing just for a change. I know_ I'd_ be intimidated by the habit."

Angel: "Let it go, Gunn."

Gunn: "Just making conversation."

Wesley: "Actually, evil sects tend to be more egalitarian in that regard. So instead of evil nuns per se, you have evil female priests." (Glare from Angel for encouraging him.)

Gunn: "Interesting. Progressive evil—who knew?"

Switch scenes: Miranda and Spike are leisurely walking down city streets—you can tell neither of them are in much of a hurry.

Miranda: (stopping) "Maybe we should just forget the whole thing and get out of here. They can take care of it."

Spike: "Keep walking."

Miranda: "But I really don't want..."

Spike: "Believe me, I'd rather bury myself in a nest full of fire ants than sit in a room with him, being all smug and superior and lookin' at you like...(he shudders and doesn't finish)...but I get the feeling this is important and I think under normal circumstances, you'd be up for it."

Miranda: "You're right. Of course you're right. Under normal circumstances, I'd never walk away. (Deep breath and more walking. After a few minutes.) I've been thinking that maybe we should re-visit our original plan of taking the sword. I think we should do whatever Duncan thinks we should do."

Spike: "And why's that then?"

Miranda: "The thing is, according to Duncan, the bloke who had the sword before turned into a bit of a crazy hermit after being chased all round the globe for millennia by Immortals trying to get a piece of it. So if I had the sword, maybe the same would be true—it would be a constant fight, with Immortals around every corner trying to steal it. I mean, sure I could kill them all, but that might take centuries and do we really want to live like that until then? Now that we're together again, I want to have a bit of a normal life for a while and I don't want it to be all about me. I'm quite ready to be a sidekick."

Spike: (skeptical) "A sidekick."

Miranda: "Definitely. After this little hubbub is over, I'd be perfectly content to be known simply as Spike's girlfriend. (thinking about it for a minute—revising) "Spike's girlfriend with the fantastic shoes...Spike's girlfriend with the fantastic shoes, who can kick some serious ass if messed with. Yeah, that'd do."

Spike: (shaking his head) "I'm thinking the babbling is a good sign."

Miranda: "I'm feeling a bit better."

Spike: (he stops and grabs her arm) "Hold up a minute. (She stops and turns to face him.) We're almost there and just thought I'd say that...we're good."

Miranda: (repeating—not quite understanding) "We're good (?)"

Spike: "Yeah, well, I officially don't hate you anymore, alright? I get what happened and, uh, it's Ok now."

A huge grin crosses Miranda's face as she leaps on him, wrapping her arms and legs around. She jumps off and steps back.

Miranda: (devlish grin) "And...?"

Spike: "And nothing, lets go."

Miranda: "Come on, say it."

Spike: (looking suddenly uncomfortable) "Not here. Later."

Miranda: (frustrated frown) "Saturday?"

Spike: "Maybe. (beat) Yeah, Saturday."

Miranda: "My limit was a decade, so I suppose another couple of days won't kill me."

Now she's all smiles as they walk on—she's practically skipping. They walk by an alley, where it is rather obvious that someone (a woman) is being attacked by something. They completely ignore it and keep talking.

Miranda: "So we're agreed that we do what Duncan thinks is best. You won't interfere, no matter what happens?"

Spike: "If that's what you want."

Miranda: "Yes. I trust Duncan. I remember now. But I have a funny feeling he might be angry with me for some reason."

Spike: "Prague?"

Miranda: "No. Something else."

Crashes from the alley.

Miranda: (getting an idea) "Hang on a minute."

She casually walks back to the alley, drawing her sword from her coat on the way. Spike is just behind her. She manhandles the vamp who has just cornered the woman and tosses him to Spike to hold. The woman is terrified and now relieved. She's just about to express her gratitude.

Miranda: (in a rather demanding/harsh voice) "Do you watch Xena?"

Woman: (not sure she heard correctly) "Excuse me?"

Miranda: (impatient) "Do you watch Xena, the televion show? You look like the sort who might." (The woman is a bit mannish.)

Woman: "No, I..."

Miranda: (disappointed) "Oh. (turning to Spike) You can let him go. Sorry to bother you."

Woman: "Wait. I do. I watch it."

Miranda: (annoyed) "Well why didn't you say so when I asked?"

Woman: "It's kind of embarrassing—I'm a grown woman."

Miranda: "That's just silly. She kicks ass—with a sword—what's embarrassing about that?"

Woman: (now terrified of Miranda) "Nothing."

Miranda: "Right then. What happened in the series finale?"

Woman: "I'm not sure I remember. It was a while ago."

Miranda: "Maybe you're making it all up—maybe you've never seen it. Spike?"

Woman: (afraid, she bursts out) "She dies. Xena dies."

Miranda: (seriously surprised) "What? That can't be right."

Woman: "A samurai cuts her head off."

Miranda: (quite upset by the news) "That's certainly a respectably way to go, but they bring her back."

Woman: "No. I...I don't remember exactly. Something about her debt being too much to repay in life—she'd killed too many people, so she had to stay dead. I could be wrong—I wasn't paying that close attention. You know, series finales and all—they're always a bit weird."

Miranda thinks about this and leans back against the wall of the alley. The vamp is starting to squirm in Spike's grip and Miranda tosses him a piece of wood from the trash and Spike quickly dispatches him after a brief fight. When he's done, they walk out of the ally without saying another word to the woman, who is utterly confused by the whole experience.

Spike: (a bit of a smirk) "For future reference, that was the tiniest bit out of character for you. Not that it wasn't good for a laugh, but..."

Miranda: (still frowning, distracted) "I don't see why you have to be nice to someone when you're saving their ass."

Spike: "It wasn't so much the rudeness as the threatening to let the vamp eat her. Personally, I think the whole being nice business is the most off-putting part of the whole hero gig."

Miranda: "Maybe that should be our thing. We'll help people as the situation arises, but there'll be no verbal charity."

Spike: "Our motto can be 'We help the useless idiots who are daft enough to get themselves into trouble'"

Miranda: "Just because you're a victim, doesn't mean you're not a fashion disaster or a prat."

Spike: (looking at a piece of paper) "That's it up ahead."

Miranda: "I can't help but think this is a bad sign."

Spike: "What is?"

Miranda: "Xena being dead."

Spike: "She's a fictional character, love."

Miranda: (looking worried) "I just have a feeling things aren't going to go quite as planned."

They stop for a moment, just a few steps away from Duncan's shop to have a smoke. Miranda looks particularly uneasy. After a few minutes, she pulls a bottle out of her coat and with it in hand, they exchange a look and enter the shop. There is someone working at a desk at the front of the shop. She instructs Spike and Miranda to follow the hallway to the right to the conference room.

Meanwhile, in the conference room...

Duncan stands up abruptly, frowning. He steps over to where his sword is leaning up against the wall and grabs it.

Angel: (a bit confused by Duncan's behavior—he's aware that Immortals sense each other, but Duncan's specific reaction seems wrong) "Is that Miranda?"

Duncan: "It can't be. Unless..."

He looks very concerned, but before he can explain, Miranda comes confidently strolling into the room. Before she gets two feet in the door, Duncan is on her, looking pissed as hell. He knocks her down, harshly. The bottle she was holding smashes on the floor. He quickly and pins her with his foot pressed firmly on her neck, pushing the side of her face onto the floor—his sword is pointed down at her threateningly. She looks angry, but doesn't fight back and raises her hands off the ground in a sort of surrendering motion. As this is happening, Spike walks calmly into the room and doesn't flinch at Duncan's attack on Miranda—he's a cool as punch. Angel, on the other hand, walks menacingly towards Duncan.

Angel: "What the hell's going on?" (Looking like he's about to knock Duncan across the room.)

Spike: (stepping between them) "Immortal business, mate. Best to back off."

Spike then casually walks to the side of the room, where there is a counter and leans against it.

Duncan: "You killed him. You treacherous bitch. I told you where to find him—didn't think you knew about the sword. (real pain in his voice) Ach, Miranda, what's got into you?"

Miranda: (Spitting the words, as her face is pressed against the cement floor) "I didn't do it. Jesus Christ, I can barely breathe."

Duncan: "I can feel his power in you—you can't hide it. There's no other way you could get that much so fast."

Miranda: "I didn't kill him, Duncan."

Angel: (to Duncan, still menacing) "Maybe you should calm down. She said she didn't kill him."

Duncan: "Take her sword—it's in her coat. (forceful) Do it."

Miranda: (to Angel) "It's ok. Take it."

But before Angel moves a muscle, Spike is there, peeling off her leather coat with the sword tucked in the back.

Duncan: (to Spike) "Let me see it." (Spike unsheathes it and holds it up for Duncan's inspection.)

Miranda: "I didn't know he had the bloody sword. Not then."

Duncan: "So you _did_ kill him."

Miranda: "No. I felt it—we were leaving town. I must have been the closest."

Duncan: "Why should I believe you?"

Miranda: "I'll prove it to you. Let me up and we'll discuss it."

Duncan: "Prove it how?"

Miranda: "Ask Alex—he'll tell you. He's probably just outside."

Duncan: "Who's Alex?"

Miranda: "My Watcher—he was with us the whole time in Europe."

Duncan: "You know your Watcher's name? I thought it was more of a general surveillance thing."

Miranda: "I can't believe I know more about this than you—we all have a primary one who follows us. At least that's how it seems to work with me. Angel, you remember what he looks like—go outside and drag him in here."

Angel: "You'll be alright if I go?"

Miranda: "I'll be fine. Duncan's not going to kill me."

Duncan: "Don't be so sure about that."

Miranda: (with a bit of attitude) "Oh, please. I'm unarmed and female. I'd have a better chance of getting struck by lightening."

Duncan frowns. Angel heads out the door.

Miranda: "Well, are you at least going to remove you foot from my neck so I can breath while we wait?"

Duncan: "Not after that last comment."

But he does take some of the weight off her neck. She uses the opportunity to quickly knock his leg to the side and roll away. She stands up with her hands raised, indicating that she's not going on the offensive—she merely wanted to make a point that she could get away if she wanted to. He continues to point his sword at her neck. Spike is successfully pretending to look bored. Everyone else just stands in shocked and uncomfortable silence. In a minute, Angel comes back in the room, dragging Alex by his shirt. He tosses him into the center of the room. He stands there, looking very uneasy—he's not used to someone being able to track him so easily (those damn vamps). He looks different from the last time we saw him—he's got cool shades and hip clothes and has a more confident air.

Miranda: "Why Alex, you look stunning—moving up in the world, aren't we?"

Alex: (a little freaked by Miranda talking to him, but kinda proud) "You move up, I move up."

Miranda: "Am I right that you were with us in Europe—I never actually caught sight of you, but..."

Alex: "I was doing my job."

Miranda: "Well, then, what was my scorecard?"

Alex: "I'm not supposed to say—not in front of him." (indicating Duncan)

Miranda: "Duncan and I are having an argument that only you can settle. If you don't agree, then I'm afraid Duncan might be forced to take my head and you'd be out of a job. Or re-assigned—not sure how that works exactly."

Alex: (with a touch of attitude/pride) "You could take him."

Miranda: "Aren't we getting a bit cocky? I'm quite touched at your confidence in me, but the truth of the situation is, I'm unarmed." (She holds up her hands.)

Alex: (A look of panic crosses his face—he can't fathom an existence without Miranda. He looks around nervously.) "Three Immortals, 3 humans and a bunch of other...things."

Angel: "Humans?"

Miranda: "Rogue watchers—tried to poison me, didn't they William? (They exchange a knowing look (she's not going to mention the Immortal's girlfriend in Glasgow). Alex doesn't correct her.)

Spike: "'Things' would be demons of various kinds."

Alex files away this bit of information. Demons.

Duncan: "Who were the Immortals?"

Alex: (looking for a nod from Miranda) "Gerald in Glasgow, Stefan in Paris, and Illich in Romania."

Duncan: "You're sure that's it?"

Alex: (shifting nervously) "Wins, yes. She received the Quickening from another, but she wasn't involved in his death."

Miranda: "Do you know who was?"

Angel: "The priests?"

Miranda: "What priests?"

Alex: "Suicide. (pause) Can I go now?"

Miranda: "Aren't you just going to go watch us from somewhere else with your surveillance equipment?"

Alex shrugs.

Miranda: (to D) "Satisfied?" (He nods—still floored by the suicide comment.) You can go."

Alex quickly slips away—Despite his hipper look, he's much more comfortable with his surveillance equipment than with real people.

Duncan: "Suicide?"

Gunn: "That's gotta be kinda complicated if you're an Immortal."

Cordelia: "Not if you had a Guillotine—he was in France, right? Probably could just pick one up at any flea market."

Wesley: "Am I right in thinking he likely had an accomplice?"

Duncan: "Maybe."

Miranda: "Have to say, he wasn't exactly the picture of sanity when I saw him last."

Duncan: "So you did meet him?"

Miranda: "Very briefly. When we dropped off Lauryn"

Duncan: "I still can't believe you just left her there."

Miranda: "I told you, she was starting to cause trouble and he was the closest. Don't you feel bad for Lauryn—up until that point, we showed her a right good time, didn't we William?"

Spike: (smirking knowingly) "I think she left us feeling very…_satisfied_."

Duncan: "Well she obviously didn't have a positive effect on his mental state."

Miranda: "Pshaw."

Duncan: "How long between then and the Quickening?"

Miranda: "I don't know—maybe a couple of weeks. We were passing close by on our way somewhere else and I did feel the tiniest bit guilty, so we decided to swing a bit closer to see how they were getting on. Obviously, she must have already left."

Duncan: (skeptical) "Seems a bit convenient."

Miranda: (shrugs) "Iunno. Someone had been following us that last night around town. Didn't think much of it. Figured it was his Watcher or something. (beat) So could we start over, you think? I had this brilliant little speech about us all being adults and putting the past behind us, blah blah blah—oh, and I think there was clever line about us having almost a thousand years between us—related to us being adults and all. (trying to be cheery) I brought whiskey."

Cordelia: "Ah, so _that_ would be the foul smelling liquid currently spreading across the floor. Ick."

She steps away from the stream coming from the broken bottle.

Angel: "Is drinking really appropriate considering the situation? We've got a lot of planning to do."

Miranda: (Eye-roll. Not looking at him—throughout this entire scene, Miranda never looks at Angel directly, even when she's speaking to him) "It's meant for after we succeed. Traditionally, having the bottle in hand before the battle is viewed as good luck."

They all look at the broken bottle on the floor for a moment, frowning. Gunn is about to say something, but Wesley gives him a look. Better left unsaid.

Duncan: "Maybe we _should_ start again. (Pretending he's seeing her for the first time.) Miranda—you're looking well." (He gives her a greeting kiss on the cheek.)

Miranda: (smiling warmly) "Hello, Duncan. Sorry about Prague—I've been rather moody lately."

Duncan: (Looking at her bare arm) "What's with the tattoos?"

Miranda: (Glancing in Angel's direction, but still not making eye contact) "Heroine chic, darling. All the kids are doing it. You should see William's."

Angel: (angry/annoyed voice) "Speaking of Spike, mind telling me why you brought him along? This is supposed to be strictly business."

Miranda: (casual shrug) "William does what he likes."

Spike: "Miranda has a tendency to lose her mind whenever she comes to L.A., so for sanity's sake I thought it would be best to tag along this time."

Angel: "Maybe what she loses is dead weight."

Spike: (still totally cool) "Oooh glass houses, mate."

Miranda: "I seem to remember losing something in L.A. last time—now, what was that again?"

Duncan: (interrupting what looks like an escalating situation) "Perhaps we should get started. I brought a map of the docks where I think the sword will be arriving."

Duncan, Angel, Miranda, Wes and Gunn all move towards the table where Duncan unfolds a map. He starts explaining things and bringing Miranda up to date on what they had been talking about before she arrived. Spike and Cordelia hang in the background.

Cordelia: (eyeing Spike) "You look different. Are you taller?"

Spike: (deeply sarcastic) "Yeah, Cordelia—after a hundred years of being dead, I just had a growth spurt. I have been eating my Wheatabix."

Cordelia: (Can't stop looking at him) "There's definitely something. (Looking more closely at his skin) Are you tan? (He just shakes his head) Different color...bleach? Colored contacts? I really think you must've grown—I remember you being really kinda small and..."

Miranda: (Overhearing, she breaks away from the 'planning' for just a moment.) "For goodness sake, Cordelia, he's wearing Armani. (under her breath) The girl is like a bloodhound for expensive apparel."

Cordelia: (surprised) "That's it. (giving him another once-over) Armani casual. Hm."

Spike: (getting annoyed) "Will you stop?"

The others are peering over the map. Miranda is careful to never be next to Angel—she keeps Duncan in between at all times. Cordelia wanders over to see what they're looking at. Miranda points to something on the map—Angel stares at her hand. Specifically, a ring on her left ring finger catches his eye.

Cordelia: (Noticing the ring at the same time.) "Oooh, that's pretty." (The ring is platinum with a wide square of black onyx with a square diamond set in the center (tilted 45 degrees). The band has a narrow band of black onyx as well, with tiny diamond chips.)

Miranda: (stretching her hand out to admire it) "I think it's the prettiest ring I've ever owned."

Cordelia: "Seriously? Huh. I've never seen anything like it. Where did you find it?"

Miranda: (smirking slightly) "You'll have to ask Spike."

Cordelia turns to Spike.

Spike: "It's an antique."

Angel: (under his breath) "Probably lifted it off a corpse—_that's_ romantic. (Quickly changing the subject. To Duncan:) "So you're sure it's coming in on the 11 o'clock freighter arriving at dock 20?"

Duncan: "'Sure' might be too strong a word, but it fits with all of the information I've had so far. I'll get the final details tomorrow evening."

Miranda: "So what Immortals do you expect to show? You said you'd been able to dig up a few names of likely challengers."

Duncan: "There's just three that I know of for sure. A real piece of work named Trachys, another called Gaelin and uh...a third called Licia."

Miranda: (shock) "Licia? Am I mistaken, or is that a girl's name?"

Duncan: "Yeah, so?"

Miranda: "Hm. This is getting more interesting all the time. Is she a fighter or a girlfriend?"

Duncan: (Tiniest bit flustered—like he's hiding something) "She can fight."

Miranda: (eyes lighting up) "I've never fought another female Immortal before. She's mine."

Duncan: "Hang on a minute, we don't know there's going to be any fighting."

Miranda: "Of course we're going to fight. We're sure as hell not meeting for a picnic. I've heard you talk about Gaelin and Trachys before—they're not the sort to work through conflicts over tea from what I understand. And if Licia's with them..."

Duncan: "She might not realize what she's gotten herself into. We all might be able to keep our heads."

Gunn: (smiling) "Figuratively AND literally, in this case."

Miranda: (realizing something. To Duncan.) "You've slept with her, haven't you?"

Duncan: "I don't see what that has to do..."

Miranda: (stern) "Duncan."

Duncan: "Yeah, well, maybe we had a thing a while back. I still don't see..."

Miranda: (almost laughing) "Honestly Duncan, aside from me, is there a female Immortal you_ haven't_ slept with?"

Duncan: (At first, he looks all defensive, but then a wry grin crosses his face.) "There's more popping up every day."

Miranda: (smiling and shaking her head) "Well, there'll always be me, I suppose. Something to count on for all eternity. Regardless, that settles it. She's mine. You men are useless when it comes to dealing with ex's and I won't have your sentimentality jeopardizing our mission. Agreed?"

Duncan: "Fine. Although I do take issue with 'useless'"

Miranda: (looking around the room) "Would you like me to start naming names, boys?"

They all look slightly uncomfortable.

Cordelia: "I think they get it."

Angel: "Are the three working together?"

Duncan: "No. Gaelin and Trachys are rivals. Licia and Gaelin are an item, though. Not that Immortal relationships are ever a guarantee of anything."

Miranda: (sarcastic) "We're a real romantic lot."

Gunn: "Yeah, I get that vibe."

They continue to discuss plans for keeping the sword away from the Immortals, the priests and the rogue watchers. Spike is in the background listening in, but not actually participating. They work out a tentative plan involving a decoy (sorry, can't be bothered to come up with the details right now). Spike lets out a loud sigh/noise of dissatisfaction.

Angel: (turning to Spike, annoyed) "What?"

Spike: "It's a stupid plan—if it works, it'll be shear luck."

Angel just shakes his head. Duncan looks concerned.

Duncan: "You have something better to suggest?"

Spike: (shrugs and starts walking over to the map) "They'll be expecting a decoy. Instead of having one box with the decoy and Duncan carrying the real one, have two decoys in two boxes. They'll assume one is the real one and it will tie up at least one or more groups while they figure it out. You have Miranda carrying the real sword, because you know they'll assume that Duncan has it once they figure out that the boxes are both fakes—from what I hear, Immortals aren't the most progressive lot when it comes to equal rights and won't think that Duncan would trust a bird with it. You have someone over here (pointing at the map) keeping an eye on the priests, as they'll be over doing some sort of hocus pocus. (shrugging) The rest of it's (their plan) alright, I guess."

Angel: "Maybe I should have the sword—even less likely they'd find it first off."

Duncan: "The sword should be with one of us (Immortals). I think Spike's right that they'll figure I have it. At the very least it could buy us some time."

Miranda is beaming with pride as she looks at Spike. They work on the details a bit more.

Gunn: "So the immediate plan is to take the sword directly to the church on Alexander Street."

Wesley: "I think there's another over on Broad Street, a few blocks to the west."

Duncan: "We'll still need to be careful, as the Watchers will follow us in—they don't respect the holy-ground mandate."

Miranda: "Just so you know, I can't go in."

Duncan: "Go in where?"

Miranda: "To the churches."

Duncan: (crinkling his face in disbelief) "I don't know what you mean by that—you won't go in?"

Miranda: "Not won't—can't."

Duncan: "Why?"

Miranda: "You want to field that one, Angel?"

Angel: (Frowning. Not explaining) "There's a graveyard about a half mile north—she can retreat there."

Duncan: (confused) "Whatever."

Miranda: "So what then? What becomes of the sword once we get it?"

Duncan: "_If _we get it. It was meant for Joseph, so..."

Spike: (to Miranda) "It's yours, love. (to Duncan) Am I right? Line of succession or some such bollocks?"

Duncan: (concerned look) "Yes, technically, it belongs to Miranda."

Miranda: "Isn't that splendid. And to think we wasted all that time trying to figure out how to take it. (Catching herself, laughing.) Oops, did I just say that out loud?"

Duncan: (sigh—worried) "I'd like you to consider helping me destroy it. I think it would be best for everyone."

Miranda: (a bit petulant) "Certainly best for you."

Duncan: (about to plead the case) "Miranda, I..."

Miranda: "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Duncan. I'd already decided to take your advice. Whatever you think is best."

Duncan: (seriously relieved) "Good. So we're agreed. We destroy it."

Miranda: (like a little kid asking for ice cream) "Oh, but can I at least use it to kill any others who show up? I'll split them with you if you like."

Duncan: (frown) "We'll see."

He can't help but sense that Miranda is different from the woman he's known for so many years—at the core, she's the same, but so changeable and just "off" somehow. He doesn't understand what's happened, but it makes him a bit sad and worried—mostly for her safety.

Wesley: "Do you know how to destroy the sword?"

Duncan: "Not 'till I get a good look at it. Hopefully, we'll be able to just melt it down."

Wesley: "I can bring a few books I have on ancient weaponry. We can do some research once we're secure in the church."

They discuss a few more details and then disperse for the night. They agree to meet the next day after sunset.

Miranda: "Well, then. I don't know about anyone else, but I think tomorrow is going to be a right barrel of laughs."

Gunn: "See there? Optimism. I like that."

Miranda: "On other hand, the broken bottle and Xena's untimely demise speak otherwise."

Gunn: "Xena?"

Spike: "Don't ask."

Miranda and Spike head out first. Duncan stays in the conference room. Gunn, Wesley, Cordelia and Angel walk out to the shop area.

Angel: "You guys go on ahead. I'd rather walk back."

Wesley nods; they can tell seeing Miranda was hard on him.

Cordelia: "Guys, I'll catch up. (She stays behind while the others leave through the front door. She's genuinely concerned) Hey, are you okay?"

Angel: (shrugs) "I guess so. (not) I mean, I don't know what I was expecting. This wasn't it. (pause for silent brooding) She wouldn't even look at me."

Cordelia: (understanding) "Speaking from experience, sometimes it's a lot easier to be a bitch in these situations. It doesn't mean she doesn't care. Try not to take it too personally."

Angel: (he just frowns/shrugs) "You should get going—those shoes don't really look like they're up for the walk back."

Cordelia: "You going to be alright?"

Angel: "Yeah. I just need some air. (pause) Thanks."

She leaves. He stands there for a moment and then quickly heads out the door.


	34. Chapter 34

Scene 4

The docks, night. Miranda and Spike are approaching the meet site. They are the first to arrive. All is quiet.

Miranda: (Bouncing with energy. Pointing to her cheek, playfully.) "So, want to give me a good lick before the others get here?"

Spike: "Seems a waste of tongue action, that. Come here."

She saunters up to him and puts her hands on his chest—he puts his arms around her back and they have a nice, drawn out tongue-worthy kiss. He feels her ass and gently breaks away (from the kiss) with a pleased smile. They stay in that position.

Miranda: "I was very proud of you yesterday, the way you kept your cool. You were brilliant."

Spike: "Yeah, well, it wasn't easy. Have I mentioned exactly how much I hate him?"

Miranda: "Not in the last five minutes."

Spike: "Had to keep chanting to myself to keep from_ accidentally_ decapitating him."

Miranda: "Do I want to know what you were chanting?"

Spike: "Somethin' about him never ever being alone with you again—never ever being close enough to touch your hair—never ever waking up next to you like I will every day from now 'till..." (he just smiles)

Just then, we see Angel on his way—he stops when he hears that it's just M&S. He decides to wait until the others arrive to make his presence known. But he is within earshot.

Miranda: "Speaking of which, did you make the call?"

Spike: "Not yet."

Miranda: (a bit pouty) "But tomorrow is Saturday. Are we still on?"

Spike: "Yeah, yeah. I'll call soon as we get back. Promise."

Miranda: "What do you think it will be like?"

Spike: "Haven't the foggiest. Somehow, I wouldn't be surprised if it involved an Elvis impersonator."

Miranda: (She playfully bats at him.) "Stop it. This isn't Vegas."

Spike: "It's not too far off, love. Maybe we should go there after—Vegas, I mean."

Miranda: "I'd rather get back to the house, if you wouldn't mind too much. I miss it."

Spike: "You really going to give Dawn Aikido lessons in the library when we get back, like you promised her?"

Miranda: "Why not? The girl's got to learn to take care of herself. Lord knows Buffy doesn't have the time to teach her anything."

They break apart and she starts pacing around, full of energy. She pulls out her sword and starts twirling it around.

Miranda: "My body is buzzing for a good fight. I hope Duncan doesn't decide to put a damper on things. I'll be very cross if there are no heads to be taken."

Spike: (looking at her admiringly) "I do love to watch you in battle."

Miranda: (small laugh—knowing smile) "You just like to be around after I win."

Spike: "That, too. (pause) So, uh...amidst the chaos that is likely to ensue later on, if I were to, oh, I don't know, oops, drive a wooden stake through a certain hair gel-happy oik, how would that go over? (She frowns. Off her look.) Guess I'll stay away from wooden objects of all kinds, 'case I get the urge."

Miranda: (warning) "_Spike_"

Spike: "I'm just winding you up, love. Though you did manage to inject some venom into that—well done."

Everyone else arrives. They review "the plan" one more time. Wesley has brought the decoys packed in identical crates. Through some clever maneuvering, they are able to get to the real sword before any of the "bad guys" show up. Miranda takes it and puts it in her coat, along with her other sword. Just as she gets it, the "posse" arrives, including the dark immortals and the priests—the watchers keep their distance initially. They're in a fairly open area near the loading docks. There's some talking between the Immortals—they can't all fight at once and they know that. Duncan tries to negotiate—basically telling them that he plans on destroying the sword so that none of them have an advantage. Initially, it seems that the priests are working with the dark immortals, but a subset of them break off early on. Angel's crew is watching the priests, who have a two-pronged system. There are some who are fighting and others who immediately form a circle and start chanting. The 'fighters' distract Angel, Gunn and Wesley (Cordy is on the sidelines, watching the other priests performing a ritual—she's taking notes to give to Wes). In a few minutes, everyone is fighting. But just as the fights start to heat up, the ritual-performing priests succeed in opening some sort of portal in the ground—Cordelia tries to get Wes's attention, but he's too busy defending himself. The ground shakes and they all stop what they're doing in response to what's happening at the portal. A huge plume of smoke with swirling fire emanates from the portal—all the priests surrounding it (and the others who were fighting) drop to the ground, dead. When the smoke clears, we see a man—he looks human and is dressed exquisitely in an expensive looking tailored suit. He's well groomed, handsome and looks about 40 years old. He steps over the dead bodies of the priests and looks around.

Man: (casually) "Gentlemen. Ladies. I believe one of you has something of mine."

Angel: "Who the hell are you?"

Man: (turning to look at Angel, then smirking) "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Angelus. It wasn't so long ago that you were a...guest in one of my kingdoms."

Gunn: "Don't tell me he's..."

Cordelia: (uncomfortable laugh) "So _that's_ why it's called Lucifer's sword."

Wesley: "Funny, I never considered for a moment such a literal explanation."

Duncan just scowls.

Lucifer: (mocking) "Shock! Horror! Yes, yes. Thanks to the hard work and sacrifice of these fine gentlemen (kicking one of the priests over with his foot), I can now take back what was long ago stolen from me. (commenting on the dead priests) Ugly, buggers aren't they? I really need to look into recruiting more women—some sort of affirmative action for minions."

Gunn: (under his breath) "Again with the progressive evil."

Angel: (whispering to Duncan) "We can't let him have the sword. Last time he had it, bad things happened."

Lucifer: (overhearing) "Good times. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm on a bit of a schedule, so..."

Just as he says this, Licia makes a break for it and starts running away. Lucifer lifts a hand and she stops, frozen.

Lucifer: "Naughty girl. No one leaves until I get what I came for. Do you have it? (She turns and shakes her head.) Better safe than..."

He reaches his hand towards her and she gasps as he appears to suck the quickening from her—a cloud of energy leaves her body and enters his. Afterwards, she drops to the ground, dead. He walks over to her, fishes out her sword and throws it to the side in frustration.

Gunn: "Uh, I think we need a revised plan of some sort."

Wesley: "Based on Cordy's description of the ritual, I'd say he's confined in both space and time."

Angel: "So he's in a hurry."

Duncan: "How big an area does he have?"

Wesley: "There's no way to know. It's also likely that he doesn't have access to his full range of powers."

Angel: "We need a distraction."

Lucifer: "Who's next? Honestly, I have no quarrel with any of you—give me what I came for and no one else has to die."

Gaelin: (pointing to Duncan) "He's got it."

Lucifer: "Let's see, shall we? (But instead of reaching towards Duncan, he reaches toward Gaelin and kills him) I've never liked tattle-tales. An untrustworthy sort, I find. (As he's inspecting the remains) Oops, I guess he wasn't lying."

Shrugs, then turns to Duncan. Angel rushes him before he raises his hand, but Lucifer effortlessly pushes him aside.

Miranda: "Is this what you're looking for? (Miranda pulls out the sword and is moving it around as if she's testing it out. This whole time, she has been at the opposite end of the courtyard from Angel and Duncan. Spike is off to the side—he had been fighting Trachys when Lucifer appeared.) It's lovely. Fantastic balance. Light as a feather. I could see how someone with this sword could get ideas. You know what? I think I'd quite like to keep it." (She's acting a bit goofy/crazy.)

Lucifer: (Turns to look at her. He is mesmerized by the sight of it) "It doesn't belong to you."

Miranda: "What's that saying? Possession is 9/10ths of the law or somesuch."

Lucifer: (casually) "You think you can keep it from me?"

Off to the side, whispering to each other. Gunn: "Why doesn't he just take it—why isn't she dead already?" Wesley: "Maybe there's something to the legend after all—she does have the sword in hand."

Miranda: "Tell you what. I'll fight you for it."

Duncan: "Miranda, no. Just give it to him."

Miranda: (dismissive) "I came here for a fight, Duncan, and I'm not leaving until I get one. I'm very particular that way lately."

Lucifer: "You can't be serious. You're just an Immortal. What makes you think you can challenge me?"

Miranda: "Oh, I don't know. What made you think you could challenge Him?" (She looks to the sky as she says this.)

Lucifer: (He laughs as this.) "I do like your attitude, but I simply can't be arsed. You wouldn't believe what my schedule is like, what with the torture and the corruption and the torture. Tell you what, hand it over now and I'll let you live."

Miranda: "Come on, Lucy. Think of it as a bet—rumor has it, you like to gamble. I'm simply betting that I'm a superior swordsman."

Lucifer: (considers it for a moment. shrugs) "Why not? It'll be fun. It's been millennia since I've had a proper battle. The usual rules?"

Duncan: "Don't be crazy, Miranda."

Angel: "Miranda, think about this."

Miranda: (ignoring them, shrugging.) "Sure."

She looks over at Spike and gives him a wink. He nods.

Lucifer: "If you don't mind, I'm not in a trusting mood."

He raises a hand and creates a force field, preventing anyone from interfering in their battle. He then takes his jacket off. While he's getting ready, Miranda becomes impatient.

Miranda: "Speaking of schedules..."

She lunges forward with the sword and slices off Lucifer's left hand. It comes off like butter (with The Sword). He looks angry for a moment, but then quickly grabs a sword (from one of the dead Immortals) and by the time he turns to face her next blow, his left hand has grown back.

Gunn: (seeing the regeneration) "Oh, this isn't going to be good."

They start fighting, full force. Miranda is very fast and for a while manages to avoid any direct blows. She pulls out all the stops and uses every move she has. The fighting heats up and Lucifer starts to look mildly irritated because it's not quite as easy as he was expecting. As he focuses more on the fight, his appearance starts to change.

Angel: "Is it me, or is he getting bigger?"

Duncan just frowns in concern.

He's not only getting bigger, but his face is changing too—he's looking more demon-like. His skin is turning red. They continue to fight fairly evenly, but you can see that Miranda is starting to get tired. Her swordplay is impeccable, especially with _that_ sword, but he starts to push her around physically. He's able to get his hands on her and shove her backwards onto a protruding piece of jagged wood, which goes straight through her right shoulder. She winces in pain, but before he's on her, she pushes herself off of it and prepares herself. They trade blows—it's obvious she is in a lot of pain and that the wound has weakened her right arm.

Lucifer: "Ready to call it a night?"

Miranda: "Didn't think that was an option."

Lucifer: "All I care about is the sword. I'm willing to compromise the usual rules to expedite things."

Miranda: "But I'm just starting to have fun."

They trade more blows, but Miranda's right arm is getting weaker and weaker. A huge smile crosses her face.

Miranda: "Ask me why I'm smiling."

Lucifer: "Why should I care?"

Miranda: "Come on, Lucy—this is fun. Ask me why I'm smiling."

Lucifer: "Why are you smiling?"

Miranda: "'cause I know something you don't know."

Lucifer: "Yeah, what's that?"

Miranda: (She giggles) "I'm not right handed." (She switches the sword into her left hand.)

More fighting. This time, Miranda's not doing so well.

Miranda: "Ok, so maybe I stretched the truth a bit. I_ am _right handed, but I've been dying to use that line—You know, The Princess Bride. Excellent film." (She switches the sword back to her right hand. Taking advantage of the switch, he knocks her down to the ground and steps on her right arm so hard that it breaks. She kicks him with her left leg and manages to free herself. She stands up again and grabs the sword with her left hand) "Guess that was the wrong time to come clean."

More fighting. She gets in a few good blows, but it's pretty much over except that she won't stop fighting. He is getting more and more impatient. She's standing there, with a hole in her shoulder, probably many broken ribs, a broken arm, still defiant.

Miranda: "Come on, mate. It's only a flesh wound." (She giggles to herself. Mental note: I need a new line.)

Lucifer: "Enough of this nonsense; you're beaten."

By this time, he's in full typical Lucifer-looking mode, complete with red skin, black bat-like wings and horns. He points a finger to her right leg and she yells out in pain as it crumples under her—she falls to the ground. She tries to sit up enough to lift her sword with her left arm. He walks over to her and grabs the blade of her sword with his big red hand.

Lucifer: "Let go."

At first she pulls against him, but then he takes his sword and is about to cut off her hand. She glances at the ring on her left ring finger and releases the sword just in time to save it. He smiles as he holds the sword—he throws down the one he had been fighting with and quickly sheaths the new one. He leans over Miranda again, looking at her curiously.

Lucifer: "There's something familiar about you. We've met before."

Miranda: "I think I'd remember."

He squints at her, grabs her chin with his hand and takes a closer look. He appears to think of something and roughly picks her up and turns her over (she cries out in pain)—he lifts her shirt to reveal her birthmarks and then quickly tosses her to the ground again.

Lucifer: "Yes, you were there—in the Great Battle. You had the same tenacity then. The others squirmed and cried on the ground after I'd cut off their wings, but you landed on your feet and kept fighting. Yes, I remember you. You were so full of confidence and pride. (With contempt in his voice) And look at how He rewards you for your valor—throws you to earth to live with pathetic mortals and battle the other cast-offs. I would reward such bravery as yours—you'd have a place of honor in my army."

Miranda: (out of breath, flinching in pain) "What army? Not to bring up bad memories, but you lost that one—cast out of heaven and all that. Sound familiar?"

Lucifer: (Smiling down at her—he's morphed back into handsome/well-dressed human form.) "I may have lost the battle, but by some accounts I'm winning the war. In any event, it's far from over. (He puts his jacket back on) There is a place for you now if you want it—I can make you as you were. (Pause while he qualifies) More or less."

Miranda: "I'm flattered. Really I am. But I'm kinda holding out for the white-fluffy-feathery kind of wings—black and leathery doesn't exactly go with my complexion."

Lucifer: "We'll see. (looking around) From the looks of the company you keep, you'll be mine soon enough. (Considering his next move) You've amused me and for that, I'll let you and your friends live. Consider it a token of my good will."

He starts walking back towards the portal. Spike had been inching closer and closer and now rushes up and kneels next to her. She turns to him and smiles wearily.

Miranda: "Hey Lucy, hang on a minute."

Lucifer: (Turning back, mildly annoyed to be stopped) "I wouldn't push your luck."

Miranda: "I, eh, just wanted to ask. Are all Immortals like me?"

Lucifer: "What, archangels? No—their origins are as varied as the stars."

(Noticing Spike, a smile crosses Lucifer's face. As he turns to go, he lifts his hand and Spike grips his head in pain and falls backwards. Lucifer mumbles to himself.) "Nothing wrong with hedging one's bets."

He jumps into the portal and it closes behind him.

Spike: (annoyed and still holding his head) "That was totally uncalled for. Spiteful bastard."

Miranda: "You alright?"

Spike: "Yeah—felt like he just activated the chip is all."

The others come rushing over.

Duncan: "Honestly, Miranda, where is your head? What sort of insanity would cause you to challenge bloody Lucifer to a swordfight?"

Angel: "What the hell were you thinking?"

Miranda: (feeling attacked, she responds with a petulant tone) "Maybe I was bored. Told you I was in the mood for a fight."

Angel: "He could have killed you—killed us all and all you can say is that you were in the mood?"

Miranda: "But he didn't kill us, did he?"

Duncan: "You should have just given it to 'im."

Miranda: "Fuck off. Can I get a splint here? My arm's broken, but it's a clean break I think. Don't know what he did to my leg—it's entirely numb. I have an awful feeling that the bone is shattered and the only thing holding it together is the skin and muscle."

Gunn: "I'll find somethin'. Be right back."

Spike takes a bit of his t-shirt and uses it to wrap the wound in her shoulder.

Spike: "Where's Trachys?"

Cordelia: "He took off as soon as the fight started."

Miranda: "The watchers might still be lurking. They'd be quite happy to get their hands on either of us still."

Angel: "Wes, have a look around while we get Miranda ready to move."

Cordelia: "I'll go get the car and bring it closer. She doesn't look so good."

Miranda: "Oh, but I feel brilliant. No, seriously." (She is serious.)

Angel: (Shaking his head—mostly what bothers him is that she put herself in danger. He wouldn't have just given the sword away either and he knows it, but he can't stop himself from being angry) "Brilliant? What is it with you? That was a really stupid thing to do, just to get your kicks."

Gunn comes back with some pieces of wood and some handkerchiefs to tie it—he starts working on her leg with Spike's help.

Miranda: (Big frustrated sigh. Deep, disapproving/scolding frown.) "Did it occur to any of you that I might have been trying to save your asses? That maybe, just _maybe_ I was creating a diversion and that I expected you to take off like Trachys did?"

Gunn: (murmuring) "It occurred to me, but nobody moved, and I didn't want to be the first, so..."

Miranda: (Continuing her thought—she's mostly directing it at Angel and Duncan.) "That instead of being a crazy, short-tempered, impulsive wack-job, that I was, perhaps, doing something heroic? NO, of course not, because you think I'm off my head. So instead of heading off to safety once the fight heated up and you were out of danger, you just stood there with your gobs hanging open like codfish, as I got the shit kicked out of me, with your misplaced machismo preventing you from taking advantage of the situation to get the hell out of there. I mean, seriously boys, on a scale of crazy from one to Dru, I'd rate, what, a four, maybe five, tops?"

Spike: "Certainly closer to four than five on that scale, love."

Miranda: "I mean, I expect Duncan to be a bit unnerved having a woman come to the rescue, but the rest of you lot have the whole slayer thing—I mean hasn't Buffy save your asses like, a hundred times? Oh, right, she's not crazy...or impolite." (rolls her eyes)

Angel: (mumbling to himself) "I don't know about a hundred times. (to Miranda) So you just expected us to leave you here."

Miranda: "Well, yeah. That's what I'm saying. Except for Spike, of course. I'd expect him to stay and die with me, but that goes without saying."

Spike: "Lucky me. (smiling) Kidding."

Duncan: (Rather taken aback—it hadn't actually occurred to him that she picked the fight on purpose. He looks almost embarrassed.) "Oh. I...uh. I'm not really sure if I should say 'sorry' or 'thanks'."

Miranda: (waves it off) "Just get me out of here. I've a feeling once the adrenaline wears off, this isn't going to be quite the barrel of laughs I was hoping for."

Angel: (Still frowning. He's a little ashamed that he'd thought so poorly of her.) "I guess it was a pretty convincing performance."

Miranda: (starting to giggle) "I'll tell you a little secret—I'm not a very good actress."

She just raises her eyebrows, cryptically.

Wes comes back.

Wesley: "I've seen some evidence of men in the area—we should get out of here quickly."

Duncan and Spike lift Miranda up—she can put weight on one leg and so she puts her good arm around one of them and they both support her as they walk forward slowly. She should be in a lot of pain, but she's kind of delirious—her stern, chastising demeanor has changed to a rather euphoric one.

Miranda: "That was bloody FANTASTIC. I mean, it's not every day you get the opportunity to fight Lucifer himself. I think I held my own for at least 3 minutes—against the Prince of Darkness, might I add. And I survived to tell the tale."

Spike: "You were absolutely stunning. Thought you had him for the first 30 seconds or so."

Miranda: "Really? How sweet of you to say. I'm quite pleased with the way things went, considering. At the end of the day, he turned out to be an rather upstanding bloke, don't you think?"

Angel: "I think you're missing the point here. Luciferhasthesword. This is disastrous."

Gunn: "He did say something about an army. That can't be good."

Wesley: "If it helps, there didn't seem to be any urgency about his plans."

Cordelia returns with the car—it's parked about 50 yards away at the end of an alley.

Cordelia: "So am I wrong in thinking that our mission can be formally labeled a complete and utter failure?"

Gunn: "Think that about sums it up."

Wesley: "I don't believe we should consider ourselves completely at fault here. It's not as if we could have anticipated an appearance by Satan, the lord of the underworld, in the flesh. This was quite a remarkable event."

Gunn: (sarcastic) "Yeah, I mean, how could we have possibly guessed that Lucifer's Sword was actually Lucifer's sword. Sure would take better detectives than us to pick up on that clue."

Cordelia: "Guess we won't be getting that whopping Christmas bonus this year, huh?"

Miranda: "Hey, enough with the whining—I'm the broken one here and I feel rather giddy."

Duncan: "It's probably the blood loss."

Miranda: "Hang on a minute. (They stop walking) With all the excitement, I almost forgot the most important thing. (She has a wild-eyed look) I'm a fucking archangel. That is some seriously crazy shit."

Cordelia: "An angel with the mouth of a sailor."

Spike: "Technically, _were_ an archangel. There's no time for faffing about now, love."

They start walking again.

Miranda: (waves it off) "Ask me a question."

Duncan: (annoyed & worried) "What?"

Miranda: "Go on. Ask me...ask me why I don't just heal my leg right now, being an angel and all."

Duncan: "You're delirious."

Miranda: (pouting) "Ask me."

Spike: (rolling his eyes, reluctantly indulging her) "Tell us, M, why you don't just heal your leg right now."

Miranda: (She starts laughing—almost like a drunken laugh. She tries to make a straight face.) "I'm not that kind of angel." (She bursts out laughing.)

Spike: "How long you been holding onto that?"

Miranda: "Since 1996—when the movie came out. I couldn't wait. Loved it when he fought the bull."

Cordelia: "What is she babbling about now?"

Gunn: "Michael—that movie with John Travolta playing...well, you get it."

Suddenly, from behind, they get jumped by a group of men in hoods. Cordy runs ahead to the car and starts it. The others fight them off. Duncan continues to carry/lead Miranda forward, but Spike breaks off to help in the fight. He gets in a few good punches and the men go running off. He rejoins Miranda and Duncan as the others run after the men and look out for more. They come back shortly afterwards.

Angel: "They're still running. I think we scared 'em off."

Cordelia: "Weird, like they've never seen a vampire before."

Gunn: "Huh—but they were dressed like the priest-guys. Wouldn't have thought they'd be scared so easily."

Duncan: (interjecting) "They were watchers—I could make out the marks on their wrists. Probably thought the hoods would be more intimidating."

Gunn: "But the Sword's already gone. Why would they attack now?"

Angel: "They may not have seen what happened back there."

Duncan: "Or if they did, they could've just been interested in making off with the wounded. They know Miranda's got considerable power now—she would be a target regardless."

Spike: (offhanded, to Miranda) "I thought you said watchers were human?"

Miranda: "They are."

Spike: (looking confused) "Oh. But then how could I have..."

He stops himself and looks around, nervously. But it's too late—Angel has just figured it out (that the chip must not be working) and before Spike has a chance to defend himself, Angel pulls him away from Miranda and Duncan and roughly pins him against the wall of the alley, face to the wall. Honestly, he's just been waiting for an excuse and this is the best one he could have imagined. As he fumbles for a stake, Miranda breaks from Duncan, grabs his sword as she turns toward Angel and summoning all the energy she has, takes the large step to the side of the alley, deftly swinging the sword, stopping just as the blade reaches the back of Angel's neck. He freezes.

Miranda: (through clenched teeth) "Don't."

Angel: "You wouldn't—not after everything."

Miranda: "Wouldn't I? Did you miss my little speech about sentimentality? I'm not so afflicted."

Angel: (disbelief) "You can't tell me this doesn't make a difference to you."

Miranda: "Sure it does. But not in the stake-first-ask-questions-later category. And truth is, it doesn't actually affect me directly at all (Her strength is waning—she's balancing on one leg and you can tell the blood is rushing from her head, as she looks white as a sheet) But we've talked about it—worked out an agreement, haven't we, William?"

Spike: "Yeah. We're good to go."

Angel: (skeptical) "An agreement? Don't kid yourself, Miranda. I've known Spike a hell of a lot longer than you and trust me, he's not the sort to follow any agreements requiring deprivation on his part. And you might think it doesn't affect you, but it does. You heard what Lucifer said about the company you keep."

Spike squirms and Angel shoves him harder against the wall—he's in a good position and Spike has no leverage.

Miranda: (a touch of panic) "Let him go and we'll talk. Or better yet, we'll leave town tonight—right now—you'll never see us again."

Angel: (not what he wanted to hear) "So you can go back up to Sunnydale? I don't think so. I got friends there."

Miranda: "Oh, and we don't. Everything's so bloody black and white with you. What, you're worried he'll go after your precious Buffy? Lord knows she's given him reason to, but no need to worry, she's definitely on the 'don't kill' list. Besides, he was in love with her less than a year ago and we've already covered how useless men are at killing their exes."

Angel: (thrown by this) "What?"

Miranda: "Think he was pretty close to wearing her down, too, until I selfishly intervened."

Spike: (mortified) "Uh, Miranda, not exactly the best time to be sharing that kind of information."

The look on Angel's face is just precious as he tries to comprehend this information, but unfortunately, it has the opposite effect to Miranda's intension. Just then, Miranda's eyes start to flutter. She knows she can't hold this position any longer.

Miranda: (to Spike) "Sorry, love. I can't."

And with that she falls hard to the ground, cracking her head soundly on the pavement.

Hearing Miranda's body hit the ground, Angel can't help but turn his head to see and in doing so loosens his grip on Spike ever-so-slightly. It's just enough for Spike to push off against the wall, sending Angel reeling backwards. Spike heads toward Miranda, whose body is still. But before he can get to her, Angel pulls him around and the two start to fight. It's fairly even—all sorts of anger coming out. We see Miranda come 'round—she blinks her eyes a couple of times.

Miranda: (weakly) "Duncan. Don't let them..."

Duncan, looking very confused tries to intervene. He finally manages to wedge himself between them and stop the fighting. They stand there a moment, glaring at each other.

Duncan: "I don't have a clue what's going on here, but can we put a halt to the death match and get Miranda to safety?"

Angel glances over in Miranda's direction. He's concerned, but obsessed with getting rid of Spike.

Angel: (trying to explain) "His chip's not working. He can't be trusted."

Duncan: "What chip?"

Angel: "You know, the chip in his brain that keeps him from killing people."

Duncan: "He has a chip that keeps him from killing people?"

Angel: (a bit thrown—he figured everyone knew) "uh, yeah." (duh)

Duncan: "News to me. (to Spike) Do you plan on trying to kill any of us in the immediate future?"

Spike: "Not particularly."

Duncan: "Fine. Then lets cut the theatrics and get Miranda in the car."

Angel: "But this is huge."

Duncan: "Not to me."

Angel: "It's too dangerous to keep him around with the others. (to Spike) Fine. Consider this your lucky day, Spike. Beat it—get lost. Next time I see you, I kill you. Deal?"

Spike: "It's been such a long time since I've heard you say that, peaches. Warms my heart, it does. But I'm not leaving her."

Angel: "Jealous much? Why don't you be the bigger man for once and do what's best for her. (beat) Last chance."

Spike: "Fuck off. _I'M_ what's best for her. I know how to take care of her."

Angel: (incredulous) "And I don't?"

Spike: "Didn't do so well the last time..."

Angel: (Rage building. Deep breath to calm himself.) "I think I can handle it."

Spike: "Bullshit. You have no fucking idea—you don't know the first thing about it. (under his breath) 'was the same with Dru."

Angel: "What was that?"

Duncan: (looking around nervously) "Okay, okay. I think we've got some old business here. D'you think we could come up with a compromise? I've got a set of handcuffs in the car. Spike, will you agree to let me put them on you just till we get back to the hotel where we can talk this out?"

Spike: (scowling, but glancing over towards Miranda, who is now moving around, mumbling to herself.) "If it means I can stay with her."

Duncan: "Angel?"

Angel: "We tie his feet, too." (Duncan looks to Spike)

Spike: (Rolling his eyes. He's doing his absolute best to hold back.) "Whatever."

Duncan heads to his car. Angel shouts to G, W & C to stay where they are. Spike shoots over to Miranda. He kneels next to her as she pushes up on her elbows. She looks very out of it.

Miranda: (seeing Spike) "Hey, handsome. Sorry I fell."

Spike: "No worries, love. You feel alright?"

Miranda: (confused) "Did I get hit by a truck? I feel like I was hit by a truck."

Spike: "Not so much a truck as the Lord of the Underworld."

Miranda: "Huh. Well that's got to hurt. (looking around on the ground) Hey, I think I lost my wallet. Do you see it?"

Spike: "Yeah, it's right next to you."

Miranda: (She picks it up and blinks hard at it, as if she's never seen it before. She takes out her drivers license and hands the rest to Spike) "Might need this."

Spike: (giving her a 'you must be delirious look') "Sure."

Just then, Duncan comes back with the handcuffs and Angel has some rope for Spike's feet. Duncan, rather apologetically, indicates that they have to go. Spike puts his hands forward, but Angel steps in and roughly pulls them behind his back and Duncan snaps the cuffs. Angel then ties the rope securely around Spike's ankles, leaving just enough room for him to take baby steps.

Miranda: "What's going on?"

Spike: "Nothing to worry about, love. Angel's just being a bit of a pansy."

Miranda: (shrugs—nonchalant) "Yeah, he's like that sometimes."

Spike lets out a little laugh. Angel scowls. He kneels down to lift Miranda up, but she retracts away from him like a kid afraid of getting cooties.

Miranda: (sternly) "Duncan."

Angel frowns, but lets Duncan take over. He carries her toward the cars where Gunn, Cordelia and Wesley are waiting. Spike shuffles behind, only able to take small steps because of the rope. As they approach, Gunn opens the back door of one of the cars, indicating that's where they should put Miranda. Duncan stops for a moment. Miranda gets a whimsical look on her face.

Duncan: "How should we do this?"

Cordelia: "Why don't I ride with you, Duncan, in your car and the rest can mush into Angel's car?" (She's developed a wee crush on Duncan.)

Angel: "Take Wesley, too. Miranda should keep her legs straight across the back seat."

Miranda: (dreamily not paying attention to what's going on as the others discuss the plan. She pulls out her driver's license and holds it up in front of her face. With a strange accent.) "Multi-pass" (They ignore her.)

Gunn: "I'll ride in back—Spike in front with you?"

Spike: "I'm in the back with Miranda—that was the deal."

Miranda: (She pushes her drivers license towards Spike—he isn't paying attention.) "Multi-pass" (She giggles.)

Angel: "No, the deal was, you do as I say and I don't kill you."

Gunn: "Take it easy, man. He can ride in back—he's smaller than me, anyways. More room for M."

Spike: (defensive) "I'm not that much smaller."

Gunn just gives him a 'have you looked in the mirror lately' look and shakes his head.

Miranda: (Pointing her license toward Gunn. In a milder voice) "Multi-pass."

Gunn: (turning toward Miranda) "Fifth Element. I get ya', Leeloo. Come at me with a rubber-band bikini and we'll talk."

Miranda: "Me supreme being. Me save YOU." (More giggling.)

Spike: "There are going to be serious ego issues with this, I can tell already."

Miranda: (smiling, to Spike) "Gunn always knows the movies."

Duncan: "Are we set? (everyone nods and gets into the respective cars) Meet at the hotel, yeah?"

tbc...


	35. Chapter 35

Scene 5

Minutes later. Miranda is in the back seat, her back against the side window and her legs stretched out along the length of the seat—Spike is sitting by the other window and her feet are on his lap. Angel and Gunn get in the front seat and they drive off. (Writer's note: for some reason, in my mind, it takes them a long time to get back to the hotel—don't have a reasonable explanation for that. Could there be traffic from a concert or a sporting event of some kind? Yeah, that sounds reasonable. The mood of the ride in the car is such that Miranda and Spike talk as if no one else is in the car—she's a bit delirious and they have this banter, kind of like two teenagers in the back of their parent's car.)

Miranda: (to Spike) "You're not going to get all funny again, like before?"

Spike: "Funny?"

Miranda: "You know. About the whole archangel business."

Spike: "I can honestly say, that is the last thing on my mind right about now."

He looks very uncomfortable, what with his hands cuffed behind his back and all.

Miranda: "'Cause personally, I find it all very poetic."

This elicits a curt exhale and eye roll from Angel—goes unnoticed by all but Gunn.

Spike: "You're not going to be all 'godfearing' suddenly, are you? I won't have you going to church or hiding the alcohol or anything."

Miranda: "Goodness, no. I'm obviously a fallen angel. Might as well continue to play the part."

(pause)

Spike: (remembering something—laughing) "Speaking of falling, do you remember that guy in Kazakstan—the one who sold you the cherub painting?"

Miranda: "Boris?"

Spike: "No, the vampire. What was his name?"

Miranda: "Oh, right. Sergei. That was Uzbakistan, wasn't it?"

Spike: "Fuck if I know. Too many bloody 'stans nowadays if you ask me. It wasn't Romania, was it?"

Miranda: "Don't think so. There was a Vladimir in Romania, but he sold us the dagger."

Spike: "Right. Vladimir—was he the one with the monkey?"

Miranda: "Yeah. Vlad was a bit odd, wasn't he? Kept trying to sell me those dreadful earrings made of fossilized dung."

Spike: "But Sergei was the one who had that amazing pratfall off the bridge—looked like a bloody staged skit, it was so perfect. Can't remember the last time I laughed so hard."

Miranda: "Sergei was the one who couldn't keep his eyes off you."

Spike: "He was a bit of a fawner, wasn't he? Don't remember making him, but he obviously remembered me."

Miranda: "Forget the making—he was SO hot for you."

Spike: "Come on, he just admired me. Wanted to be like me, is all. Perfectly natural."

Miranda: "Wanted to bugger you, more like."

Spike: "Will you stop it?"

Miranda: "Did you really think there was a Romanian drinking custom requiring men to take their shirts off before sharing a bottle of cognac?"

Spike: (seriously clarifying) "It's only if you're drinking in the distillery. (Miranda shakes her head. He shrugs). Somehow it didn't sound so ridiculous after a bottle and a half of vodka."

Miranda: "If he weren't so creepy, I'd have suggested a threesome."

Spike: (disgusted) "Like that would ever happen."

Miranda: "Oh, so you're happy to have Lauryn share our bed, but not another man?"

Spike: (duh) "Uh, yeah. Besides, I wouldn't trust another vampire in the mix—we wouldn't want a repeat of the Drac incident."

Interrupting—he (Angel) can't take the banter anymore.

Angel: (v. uncomfortable) "Do you think you could keep it down?"

Miranda: (giggling) "Sorry, dad. (but she can't help continuing on—in just a slightly lowered voice) "That was an entirely different thing."

Spike: "I'm just saying, vampires get ideas."

Gunn: (mildly interested, turns around) That wouldn't be 'Drac' short for 'Drac-ula'?"

Miranda: "He's got the most amazing collection of antiques and has no idea what they're actually worth. Thought we could get in, get a few bargains and get out—guy with a lifestyle like that has got to need cash."

Gunn: "You're kidding, right? (Spike just raises his eyebrows as if to say "what's the big deal?". Gunn looks impressed) No shit. Huh. What went wrong?"

Miranda: "He saw some things he probably shouldn't have and was rather curious about our relationship. It's a rather long story."

Spike: "He got an idea."

Miranda: "Got it in his head that it might be fun to attempt to add an Immortal to his collection of vampire hoochies."

Gunn: "I always wondered about that—what would happen? I mean vampires are technically dead and you can't die, so...?"

Miranda and Spike exchange a suspiciously knowing look. They respond in unison.

Miranda&Spike: "It wouldn't be pretty."

(Writer's note: there is a story here—As of this moment, I haven't written it down yet. It's probably an 'episode' length piece that pretty much addresses Gunn's question. If you have an interest in reading it, drop me a quick line. I'm much more likely to transcribe it if I know there's someone out there interested in reading it :)).

Angel: (interrupting—intentionally) "Gunn, can you have a look at the map and see if there's anyway around this traffic?"

Gunn: "Sure, man. I'll get right on it. But need I remind you that this is L.A.?"

Miranda: (to Spike): "How do you feel about New York?"

Spike: "Nice town. Good memories. Why?"

Miranda: "I think I might have an option on a house outside the city—some old gypsy woman if I remember."

Spike: "Gypsies don't live in houses."

Miranda: "Neither do vampires, but there you go. Besides, it's in Sleepy Hollow—draws in the misfits for sure. Hear they do a fantastic Halloween."

Spike: (frowning) "It's bloody cold in New York."

Miranda: "Well we wouldn't be living in a crypt now, would we? We'd have heat. Besides, I don't know what else I've got and I'd say odds are pretty good that little-miss-stick-up-her-arse isn't going to be very pleased with your newfound freedom."

Spike just frowns at the thought.

They ride in silence for a few minutes while Gunn looks at the map. Miranda lets out a quiet groan and her eyes start to flutter.

Spike: "You alright, love?"

Miranda: (sleepily) "hm. Is it raining? I think my hair's getting wet. Could you roll up the window?"

The window is already rolled up all the way. Spike looks concerned. Miranda moves her head slightly away from the window and you can see a big blood mark.

Spike: "Stop the car."

Angel: "What?"

Spike: "Stop the car. Miranda's hurt. (clarifying) Someplace new."

Gunn: "We're kind of already stopped. (traffic) Let me take a look."

He leans over the seat and puts his hand behind Miranda's head.

Gunn: "Looks like you cracked your head good."

Spike: "Must've been when she fell before."

Gunn: (sensing Spike's concern) "What's the big deal? S'not like she's in the best shape everywhere else."

Spike: "Her head's different. Takes longer to heal. Do you have anything to bandage it up?"

He finds a bit of cloth and holds it to the back of her head and then positions her head so she's leaning on it.

Gunn: "That's all I got for the time being. Anything more will have to wait 'till we get back."

Angel: (frowning; concerned, he peers in the rearview mirror. To Miranda) "You OK?"

Miranda: (looking a bit less lively) "I'm tired. Everything's starting to hurt."

Angel: "Hang in there. We'll be back soon. Hopefully."

Gunn: "Why don't you just give in to it? Take a little rest. By the time you come back, we'll have you drugged up and tucked in."

Miranda: (frowning, looking scared.) "No. (concerned look towards Spike) I...don't want to. (pause. a small smile) But I suppose 'death by Lucifer' would sure spruce up the list a bit."

Gunn: "Would go a long way towards balancing out the kitchen counter incident at number 6."

(Writer's note: I would do a flashback here, but I don't have the time right now. In summary, one time, back when Miranda was with Angel, Gunn was badly injured. They were trying to keep him conscious in the van until they could get him to a hospital. He'd always been curious about the 'deaths' Miranda had experienced, and so she started telling him about each one as a way to keep him awake. There were fourteen in total, which she insisted wasn't bad considering she was over 140 years old—that's about one a decade. Of course, the last 3 had occurred in the past year—First Buffy and then Dru and Dru again. She was angry about Dru, because she'd always been able to say "no one ever kills me twice." It just doesn't sound the same to say "no one ever kills me three times." This was also the first time Angel learned that Spike was actually death #1 on her list. She tells Gunn about a particularly memorable death, which I will have to save for another day….)

Miranda: (weak) "Nah. Don't want to miss anything." (turning to Spike)

Spike frowns. Gunn, now looking more concerned, is obviously scanning his brain to think of something to say to keep Miranda interested.

Gunn: "So, uh, have you made any changes to the estrogen dream-team?"

Miranda: (still sleepy, she frowns) "Just 'dream-team'. Please. Would be silly to have men on the dream-team."

Gunn: "Thought you might consider the girlie from Alias—have you seen it? She's alright."

Miranda: "hmph. She's Ok. Dimples not very intimidating and she's kind of wiry."

Gunn: (mainly trying to annoy her) "She looks fine in a mini-skirt, though."

Miranda: (frowning) "She's smart—I'll give her that. But she's too nice. And who would she replace anyway? There can't be more than five."

Gunn: "Why not the other spy chicka?"

Spike: (interrupting—he's kind of annoyed to not be in the loop on this one.) "What's all this?"

Angel: (overly anxious to advertise the fact that he knows something Spike doesn't) "They make lists."

Spike: "We talking crime or do-gooders here?"

Miranda: "Either. I think they could bloody well do whatever they wanted."

Spike: "Who's on it, then?"

Miranda: "Nikita, Xena, Dax, Miss Parker and...(frowns) Huh. I can't remember the fifth one. My mind must be going. Let's see. Nikita's got the guns and the stealth; Xena's got the sword and muscle; Dax has the wisdom of multiple lives, and she can fight with those cool Klingon weapon thingys and Miss Parker is simply mean-as-shit—she's the front-man. What am I missing...?"

Gunn: (to Miranda) "So what do you think?"

Miranda: "I'm not giving up Nikita. You've got to have a blonde. Guys are suckers for blondes. Isn't that right, boys? (pause. In a softer voice) Why can't I remember the fifth one? So annoying..." (deepening frown—heavy eyelids)

Gunn: (seeing that they're losing her again) "Uh, we can figure it out—fill the slot to make five. Suggestions? You already heard my nomination."

Angel: "Wonder Woman."

Miranda: (disgusted) "ech. No one on the dream-team fights in a bathing suit."

Spike: (skeptical) "But metal bras are O.K.?"

Miranda: "Metal bras protect things. But more importantly, there are restrictions. Gunn?"

Gunn: "No real people, no super-powers, no magic weapons and no genetic enhancement of any kind. Got burned when I tried to nominate Max from Dark Angel."

Miranda: (adds, petulantly) "No petite girls with neotenous features."

Gunn: "Cat woman."

Spike: "Wouldn't that fall in the special powers category?"

Miranda: "Ambiguous. But I have issues with Cat Woman anyway. Besides, isn't there a rule against animal hybrids?"

Spike: "What about the soldier girl from that sci-fi show you started watching. The one with the big gun."

Miranda: (eyes lighting up a bit) "She's perfect. Oh, but we can't have two aliens, so she'll have to sub in for Dax. Wisdom's over-rated anyway."

Gunn: "What's her deal?"

Miranda: "She's an ex-soldier from this nasty intergalactic army or somesuch. She's hard as a rock—a real down to business type. Officer Sun. Turned in her lover once to get a promotion—that's ambition. LOVE her. (giggling at something) She'd be bloody perfect for you, Angel. Very focused—all angst and frowning—no messing about with fun and the like. Perfect."

Spike: (Can't help but smile, he offers placatorally) "She's cute. Nice ass."

Gunn: (sensing the tension in the front seat) "Looks like we got our five."

Miranda: (losing steam again.) "No. We're back where we started—can't have two aliens."

Gunn: "Sure you can."

Miranda: "But Xena's dead."

Spike: "Oh, here we go."

Gunn: "It's a hypothetical list—death doesn't matter."

Miranda: (in a quieter voice, almost to herself) "I don't like that she's dead. I don't like that she had to die. She could still make up for it all—what she'd done." (She's obviously upset by this.)

Spike: "We don't even know if the bird had it right—said she didn't remember it well."

Angel: (understanding) "She's supposed to be mortal, right? There's not so much time. For..._reparation_."

Miranda: "Are we almost there? I'm cold."

Gunn: "We're getting there. Here, take my jacket."

He pulls it off and lays it across her chest. A few minutes pass in silence.

Spike: (softly, to Miranda) "We'll get some whiskey in you when we get back—warm you right up."

Miranda: (completely out of the blue) "I think I'd be jealous if you bit other people."

Spike: "Now is probably not the best time to have this conversation."

Miranda: "I think you should only bite men."

Spike: (whispering, though it's silly with Angel in the front seat) "It was your idea for me to bite Lauryn."

Miranda: (sarcasm) "And that worked out SO well. Or didn't you catch the enormous anvils of jealousy I was dropping, because I thought I was being ridiculously obvious."

Angel: (interjecting—he can't restrain himself.) "Hm. Jealousy. So it's not the killing people part of it that bothers you. (frowning into the rearview mirror) That's great."

Miranda just frowns at his words, but then is obviously thinking about it. She doesn't say anything. Spike sees her reaction. The rest of the car ride is quiet.

xxxxx

They arrive at the hotel (finally) and take Miranda in and lay her on a couch. Angel and the others roughly tie Spike to a chair in the same room, but nearer to Miranda's feet. Miranda is looking pretty awful. Duncan and Angel are both in the room.

Duncan: (to Miranda) "You're not looking so hot—think your leg might swell right through those pants. We should take them off and have a closer look." (He moves to unbutton her pants.)

Angel: "I'll get a blanket."

Miranda: "Hang on a minute."

Duncan: "Not the time to be bashful, kid. I think we can all handle seeing you in your underwear—we're adults, remember?"

Miranda: "Yeah, uh, the thing is, I'm not actually wearing any knickers. (Guilty smile and glance over to Spike.) Seemed a good idea at the time."

Spike: (interjecting) "It's always a good idea, love."

Slightly uncomfortable glances between Duncan and Angel.

Duncan: "Oh. Well, maybe we can just cut off the one leg. You got scissors handy?"

Angel: "Yeah. Be right back."

He leaves, comes back and they delicately cut the seam of her pant leg, revealing her rather gross looking leg. It's purple and swollen and twice it's normal size at least.

Duncan: "That doesn't look good. Between that and her head, I think she needs a doctor. There's a guy—an Immortal, who does this sort of thing. I'll see if I can track him down."

Angel: "You think it's not going to heal?"

Duncan: (shrugging) "Don't know. Should do, but these are unusual circumstances. At the least, he should help speed the process."

Spike: "She should have some hefty pain killers, too."

Duncan nods and heads off to get the doctor. Cordelia goes with him. Angel leaves the room to talk things over with Gunn and Wesley.

Miranda: (looking ghostly. In a rather frightened voice.) "I don't want to be here. I wish we hadn't come. (pause) I feel sick."

Spike: "You're just coming down off the adrenaline, pet. Piece of advice—you might want to consider changing your fighting style on the off chance that you might not win or lose. Hold back a bit or something."

Miranda: "But I did lose. What if it's just delayed?"

Spike: "Yeah, but you still have your head, right? That's all that matters."

Miranda: "He killed the others without taking their heads."

Spike: (Considering—this mildly freaks him out, but he quickly covers) "If he wanted to kill you, he would've just done it there and then."

Miranda: "Maybe. Or maybe he thought it would be sadistic fun to drag it out."

Spike: "You're being silly. You'll be fine. It's just the adrenaline, is all."

Miranda: "In case not, there's something I want to tell you."

Spike: "Don't even start with the melodrama—I won't stand for it." (He'll have no "death-bed" type confessions.)

Miranda: "But..."

Spike: "No. Now shut your gob and have a little nap or something 'till the doctor gets here."

Gunn comes into the room and brings a glass of water and some pills.

Gunn: "This'll have to do 'till the doctor gets here. Should take the edge off."

Gunn helps her take the pills; She winces in pain with the movement. Gunn gets up to go.

Spike: "Don't I get any?"

Gunn just shakes his head on his way out.

Miranda: "You going to be alright if I sleep? I'm worried about him (meaning Angel) I don't trust him with you."

Spike: "I've spent more time than I'd care to admit tied to a chair the past couple of years and so far, none of 'em have ever seriously tried to stake me where I sit. Sure he hates me, but he's also got a thing up his arse about fair fights and the like. He's not the stake-to-the-back sort. Go on and rest up. We've got things to do later, remember?"

Miranda tries a slight half smile. A few minutes pass in silence. Miranda is obviously thinking about something and frowning.

Miranda: "Listen, William. The pills are starting to kick in and I'll be out in a little while. I need to ask you something. It's very important and if you answer too quickly, I'll be very cross because it's something you need to think about."

Spike: (looking uncomfortable, he shakes his head) "Not this again, love. I..."

Miranda: (mustering all the energy she has) "It's you're turn to shut your gob and listen. This is important. (pause while she takes a breath and collects her thoughts) I'm starting to remember—to understand again. (he nods) I don't want to run anymore. I can't live that life. I'm tired. I need to know if this is something you want. Now that you have the option—now that you can legitimately choose, I need to know if you want your old life back or if you could be happy without it. (She pauses to look at him a moment—looking for an indication that he understands what she's saying. He does.) Regardless, I'll do everything I can to get you out of here, but I need to know. (Her voice is starting to shake a bit) I don't want your pity. I'd find a way to be OK. (beat—guessing where his mind is going) I'd never be with him again. Please, just think about it. I won't have your answer 'till I wake up."

Spike looks agitated—lots of jaw clenching and shifting around in the chair. There's so much he wants to say to her. A few more minutes pass.

Miranda: (Eyes starting to look very sleepy. She says in a dreamy voice.) "Wish you weren't so far away. What if I have a bad dream?"

With this, he starts violently hopping around in the chair, trying to worm his way out of it. He manages to turn the chair over, but whaps his head on the coffee-table on the way down (ouch). But on its side, he's able to squirm free of the chair (with his hands and feet still tied together) by breaking off bits and pieces. Once free of it, he inches his way along the length of the couch. It's quite a production. A card falls out of his pocket onto the floor—it's the one Lorne gave him. He stops near where her head is and turns so that he is sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the couch and his legs stretched out in front of him. He leans his head back so that it's almost touching hers. She wraps her good arm around his neck and smiles as she drifts off to sleep. For some reason, no one heard the commotion and so they stay like that for a time. Soon enough, however, Angel comes to check on them and roughly drags Spike back to the chair and ties him more securely. Spike continues to restrain himself from unleashing too much verbal abuse on Angel—he doesn't want to push him in case he decides to forget the good-guy routine and stake him impulsively. A while later, when Miranda and Spike appear to be resting peacefully, Gunn, Angel and Wesley go out for some reason or another—Duncan and Cordelia still have not returned with the doctor and so Miranda and Spike are alone in the hotel for a short while. Suddenly, we see someone come through the front door and head straight to the room where Miranda and Spike are being kept—it's Alex.

Alex: (looking worried, but he speaks with a cool, confident tone.) "She has to go. She has to leave now."

Spike: (looking sleepy) "What are you on about?"

Alex: "Wake her and go. Trachys is on his way—he'll be here any minute."

He turns to leave. He knows this is against the rules and the longer he stays, the more likely someone will find out.

Spike: "Not going to happen, mate. Don't think she's wake-able and not in any state to walk if she were. And if you hadn't noticed, I'm a bit tied up at the moment. Pun intended."

Alex: (frowning and looking from Miranda, to Spike, and back to Miranda) "Where are the others—the others who were helping her?"

Spike: "Dunno. You're the guy with the hidden cameras. How's this—find me the keys to these irons and I'll carry her out myself."

Alex: (scanning the room for a moment) "The key's aren't here. The guy with the hair must've taken them."

Spike: "Well, then. Guess we're in a bit of a pickle. How much time've we got?"

Alex: (starting to look wild eyed—he's pacing now) "No time. He's near. He'll kill her." (He feels sick at the thought.)

Spike: (now getting a bit alarmed.) "Find an ax or something—we can cut the chains."

Alex: "No time. We have to go now."

Spike: "You take her then."

Alex: (frantic/conflicted) "I can't. They'll fire me—kill me, maybe. Not supposed to interfere."

Spike: "Aren't you already by being here."

Alex: (True. But this. This is so much more. He'd have to touch her. To be with her. Oh god, this isn't good. But he can't just let her die. He feels dizzy. He rests his hand on the couch to steady himself. Relenting) "I am so screwed. Is there a wheelchair or something? I can't carry her myself."

Spike: "Check the big closet off the lobby—I think I saw a laundry cart."

Alex rushes off and comes back with the cart. After much angst and ire and lots of physical difficulty, he's able to get Miranda into the cart and he heads off quickly with it. Miranda is semi-conscious at this point. A few more minutes go by and there is a scuffle outside. Angel and Gunn return just in time to chase Trachys away—this is rather easy, as Trachys could tell right away that there wasn't an Immortal inside. Spike tells them that Alex took her (and bitches them out for not leaving someone behind to protect her—they defend themselves by saying they didn't expect to be gone this long). They call Duncan, who has found the doctor and was on his way to the hotel. Eventually, they track down Alex and Miranda in a motel (built on an old graveyard or something, so it's safe). Before the others come in, we see Alex sitting on the floor of the room, awkwardly smoking cigarettes and looking utterly frazzled (I picture him looking something like a smoking bunny-rabbit). He's mumbling to himself: "Ok. So I'm a fugitive. A fugitive from an organization with the best surveillance equipment on the planet. Ok. I'm screwed." Miranda is in and out of consciousness. After they (Duncan, Cordelia and the doctor) come in, the doctor examines Miranda and gives her a more powerful painkiller and gets to work on her leg and stitching up her head. He says she is likely to be out for a couple of hours at least, but should begin to recover quickly after that. He warns that if she wakes up, she might hallucinate from the drug he gave her. They decide to wait an hour or so before moving her back to the hotel so she can rest. The doctor leaves. Duncan and Cordelia sit on a bench outside the door of the motel room. Alex stays inside to keep an eye on her. Some time later, we see Miranda start to squirm on the bed—she is mumbling something, obviously dreaming.

Suddenly, everything looks a little hazy and we are back in the room where Miranda and Spike were being kept at the hotel. Miranda wakes up and looks around, trying to figure out where she is. She blinks and then sits up. Her pants are whole again (not missing a leg) and she can move freely—her injuries seem to be gone. She glances across the room and sees Spike tied to the chair, looking at her. Neither of them say anything and abruptly, she is no longer on the couch, but is standing in front of Spike. She kneels, putting her hands on his legs and smiling up at him.

Miranda: "Guess I'm all better now. (Spike stays silent and just looks at her) I wanted to tell you before, but you wouldn't let me. There's something I don't think you understand. Cal was my husband for 35 years and I loved him dearly. He was a good man and I admired him. Everyone assumes he was the love of my life, I think even you. Perhaps he should have been. But he wasn't. You are. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone."

Spike leans over to kiss her—she closes her eyes just before his lips touch hers, but they don't come. Her eyes fly open in time to see him disappear before her, turned into a pile of dust. She looks up to see Angel hovering with a stake in his hand. Her eyes go wild and she can't breath. She wants to scream, but no sound comes out. Suddenly, she is back on the couch lying down—now her injuries are back and her pants cut off. Finally, she is back in the motel room. She gasps in her sleep and her body goes completely limp.

tbc...


	36. Chapter 36

Scene 6

Back at the hotel. Angel is just hanging up the phone.

Angel: (To Gunn and Wesley) "They found her—she's Ok. The doctor did a bit of work on her leg—the bone was exploded from the inside, so she won't be on her feet anytime soon. I told them to bring her here when they feel comfortable moving her. We can take turns keeping watch until we're sure Trachys has left town."

Gunn: "I'm happy to crash upstairs tonight. (looking at his watch) Well, for what's left of it."

Wesley: "Fine with me also."

Angel: "Best to take precautions with Spike here. Make sure you've got weapons handy."

Shouting from the other room.

Spike: (disgusted) "As if I'd drink from any of you lot."

Gunn: (shouting back) "Don't do us any favors."

Spike: "Point being that I wouldn't want to. (to himself)_ Idiots_."

He is hungry and tired and frustrated by being away from Miranda and chained to a chair, and so is on edge.

Angel: "Why don't you two rest up a bit before Miranda and the others arrive. I'll keep an eye on Spike."

They nod and go. Some time passes. We see Angel brooding at his desk—he can see into the room where Spike is confined (Spike is facing the other way and can't see into Angel's office). Periodically, Angel glances over towards the room and frowns deeply. He glances at a stake he'd pulled out earlier that is now lying on his desk. More time passes. Angel has pulled out a book and is trying to read—but again, his eyes dart over the top of the book to Spike sitting in the chair and then to the stake. Spike is desperately trying not to fall asleep, but you can tell he is exhausted. Angel shifts in his chair. He is agitated and his frown deepens. He stares into space a moment and then tosses the book across his desk, stands up and grabs the stake. He pauses for a moment and watches his hand as he tightens his grip on it. He mumbles to himself, "it's the right thing" and takes the couple of quick steps to the door. Just as he is turning the corner to enter the room with Spike, Duncan walks through the front door carrying Miranda. Her leg is in a make-shift immobilizing cast. Angel immediately puts the stake down and turns to greet them. Cordelia comes in a moment later, followed by Alex, who is wearing a big baseball cap with a wig underneath and sunglasses (looking very shifty).

Duncan: "Where should I put her?"

Angel: (surprised) "She's unconscious."

Duncan: "The doctor gave her something pretty powerful for the pain. Was supposed to have worn off, but she hasn't come to yet."

Cordelia: (looking a bit concerned) "She's really cold. Do we have an electric blanket or something around here?"

Gunn: (coming down the stairs) "I've got one back at my place—can swing by and get it if you want."

Angel: "Thanks."

He is a bit mesmerized by the sight of her (she almost looks dead)—he can tell that her heart is beating very slowly. In his distracted state, he just lets Duncan stand there with her and forgets to answer his question.

Duncan: (repeating himself) "So where to?"

From the other room.

Spike: "In here. On the couch." (Frantic to see her—he can sense that something isn't right.)

Angel: "Downstairs in my room."

Spike: "Bugger that."

Angel: (justifying to Duncan) "It's a smaller, confined space—we can bring a space heater down and it'll heat up quickly."

Duncan: (needing to put her somewhere) "Fine."

Angel points in the direction of the stairs and Duncan leaves.

Spike: (intensely frustrated) "Come on. (under his breath) Bloody bastard."

After they get Miranda settled downstairs, they work out a sort of 'schedule' so that everyone gets a chance to rest. Many hours pass. Cordelia cautiously comes into the room where Spike is to make coffee (the machine is by the door). She thinks he is asleep. Then comes the sound of his stomach grumbling loudly. She turns to look in his direction and he is watching her.

Cordelia: "Dammit, I knew I should have worn a turtleneck today."

Spike: "Please, I've seen nicer necks on American football players."

Cordelia: "Somebody's not in top form this morning. Take it from the master—for an insult to be taken seriously, it's got to be a bit closer to the truth. (emphasizing her neck with her hands) My neck is Audrey-Hepburn-esq. I could be a neck model. So..."

Suddenly realizing that she is standing in front of a vampire advertising the tastiness of her neck, she turns back to the coffee machine. Spike is just smirking at her.

Spike: "Though it is true that a hungry vampire is a dangerous vampire. Your boss got a supply of blood stashed somewhere?"

Cordelia: "You know he does. The question is whether or not he's willing to share with you."

Spike: "Perhaps you should convince him that it's a win-win proposition. Assuming it _is_ his employees' safety he's most concerned about."

Cordelia: "I'll mention it—_after_ he's had his tea." (She turns to leave.)

Spike: (voice shift from snarky/pissy to genuine concern) "Is she okay?"

Cordelia: (frowns, then she turns and shrugs on her way out) "Not awake yet."

Reluctantly, Angel agrees to give Spike some blood. He walks into the room with a container of blood, with Cordelia and Wesley right behind, carrying mugs of tea and coffee. They are finishing some conversation about Alex helping them set up surveillance equipment outside the hotel to give them more lead time for possible intruders. Angel walks over to Spike with the container and looks to just pour it into Spike's mouth.

Spike: (pulling away.) "Do you have a straw? You'll spill it otherwise, with those beefy troll hands of yours."

Angel: "And I thought you were hungry..." (He starts to walk away with it.)

Cordelia: "I think we've got straws around here someplace."

She finds one and hands it to Angel. He puts it in the cup and walks back over to Spike. He takes a sip.

Spike: (disgusted) "ech, it's ice cold. Cold human blood isn't so bad, but pig's blood?"

Angel: "It's this or nothing."

Spike: "There's a microwave right there. Geez, got better treatment from the bloody Slayer."

Angel just ignores him and thrusts the straw back in his face. Spike grumbles, but drinks the rest of it. Duncan comes in, looking worried.

Duncan: "She's still not awake. I don't understand it. There should be some improvement by now."

Wesley: "Is there anything you're aware of that could slow the healing process?"

Duncan: "Never seen anything like it. Sure, some injuries take longer to heal than others, but we always get better."

Angel: "And she's worse."

Wesley: "Perhaps something supernatural. Might be a good idea to bring in someone who can look for such things."

Cordelia: "I'll check the rolodex"

She walks over to the front desk, but leaves the door open behind her.

Spike: (calmly) "Take me to see her."

Angel: (completely ignoring him) "Duncan, maybe you should call your doctor friend back. Maybe she's having a reaction to the drug he gave her."

Duncan: "I've already left a message."

Spike: (trying desperately to stay calm) "I want to see her."

Angel: (Still ignoring him. Remembering something) "There was a time when she had a stab wound that didn't heal quickly—it kept bleeding for longer than usual. She was upset—emotional. More upset than I've ever seen her."

Spike: "The Sultan?"

Angel hears and for the first time looks directly at Spike, surprised.

Angel: (Can't help himself from blurting out) "She told you about that?"

Spike: (icy) "She told me _everything_."

This seems to disconcert Angel for a moment.

Wesley: (getting back to the subject) "You think it could be psychological?"

Duncan: "I suppose it's possible. I've heard stories of Immortals putting themselves into a self-induced coma. But why would she do it? She seemed fine just before."

Spike: (Suddenly looking more agitated. to Angel. Seething.) "You should have killed him."

Angel: "I did."

Spike: "You should have killed him when she first asked you to."

Angel: "That your answer to everything, Spike? Killing?"

Spike: "For her, 'wouldn't even ask the question. (beat) (practically snarling) You let him_ break_ her. (shaking his head) Just when I thought I couldn't possibly hate you more."

Angel: (getting angry—a wee bit defensive, maybe?) "She may have told you some things, but don't you even pretend to know what went on between us. I did what I had to do and she understood that."

Spike: "Did she now? I'm very curious to know how it is you recon you know anything at all about what she thought, 'cause the truth is, you don't know the first thing about her."

Angel: "That's ridiculous."

Spike: "What's her favorite color? (Angel stumbles) Red—not fire engine red or burgundy red, but ruby red. What's her favorite food?"

Angel: "This is stupid—doesn't mean anything."

Spike: (He's been holding so much in this whole trip and now he's just letting it all out—he's on a roll; rapid fire) "Chocolate covered strawberries. How did her daughter die? (not even giving Angel time to answer) Murdered by another Immortal. What has she always dreamed of doing since she was a little girl? Fly. What's the one thing she wants to be sure to live long enough to do? Travel on a space ship. What's her favorite season? What's her beef with marital arts films? Does she prefer sunrises or sunsets? What's the first thing she thinks of when she wakes up in the morning, every morning? (he's done with the list) Admit that you don't know any of it. Admit that deep down you knew she was only playing the part and that's why you didn't think to ask too many questions."

Angel: "Shut up, Spike. You don't really want to have this conversation. You think you know what's best for her? Remember, she left you because she knew you were dragging her down to your level. Back when she was thinking clearly."

Spike: "She gave you everything and you just took it, didn't you, you self involved _pieceofshit_. You really should have told her, mate. And while we're on the subject of honesty, why don't you tell your friends here the real reason you've got me tied to a chair."

Angel: "Enlighten us, please. This ought to be good."

Spike: "I'm not chained because you're worried I'll hurt your little friends here or Buffy or Miranda or anyone else. I'm chained because you're terrified that I won't."

Angel: (this hits a nerve) "You don't know what you're talking about."

Spike: "You're terrified that I won't hurt a bloody fly and then what would your dear, precious Buffy think about that?"

Angel: (sarcastic) "Yeah, because Buffy would hate the fact that nobody dies."

Spike: "She'd wonder why love wasn't enough to keep you in check, when it's enough for me. She'd wonder if you're just weak and stupid or if you never really loved her in the first place."

Angel punches Spike hard across the face—hard enough, in fact, to knock him out cold. He looks up to find the others looking at him, ever-so-slightly suspiciously.

Angel: (almost defensively) "If he were free, I'd give him an hour, tops, before he'd go for the nearest jugular."

He walks angrily out of the room and down to check on Miranda.

Scene 7

Days pass. Everything continues as before—Spike is still chained to a chair. Angel refuses to let him see Miranda. Everyone is kind of frozen—not knowing what to do. Angel spends most of his time by her bed.

It's Cordelia's turn to give Spike some blood and she comes in to the room carrying a container.

Spike: (in a very low, downtrodden voice) "Don't bother—not hungry."

Cordelia: "Hey, I just spent a good 45 seconds in front of the microwave heating this up for you and lord knows I could've spent that time...uh...er...just take it already. You should eat."

She has actually become the tiniest bit sympathetic to Spike over the past couple of days—her tone is actually more friendly than bitchy.

Spike: (looking at her with deeply pained, pleading eyes) "How is she? No one will tell me."

Cordelia: (Looking around to be sure they are alone. She sits on the couch and puts the container of blood on the coffee table. In a softer voice.) "It's bad. The doctor came. He doesn't know what's wrong. Wesley brought some mystical shaman guy in and he couldn't find anything. (beat) Her heart is only beating a few times a minute and getting slower. She's barely breathing. Nobody knows what to do."

She offers the cup again. He shakes his head. She sits there for a moment. As she's getting up to go, she spies something on the floor near his feet. It's a small card. She leans over to pick it up.

Cordelia: (reading) "Psychodelic Seymor's Divine Demon Pagoda: Commitment rituals, birth rites and feast-day celebrations performed daily. Call now to reserve an alter. Goats, humans or other sacrificial animals not provided."

She frowns, cluelessly, and puts it down on the table. She turns to leave.

Spike: (pleading) "You have to convince them to let me see her. Talk to Duncan—he knows. Angel's only making it worse keeping me away."

She turns to face him.

Cordelia: "He gets more possessive by the hour—he doesn't want to leave her side, in case...(Her voice trails off and she looks away.)

Spike: "He's making it worse, I can feel it. Please. Talk to him."

Cordelia: (She glances back towards him and frowns. Then she squints as if she sees something she can't quite fathom.) "Are you...crying?"

Spike: (He turns away, embarrassed, but there is a tear or two. Quietly.) "Fuck off."

Cordelia: (seriously amazed) "Sorry. It's just...I...I didn't know vampires could cry."

Spike: (Annoyed that he's so exposed) "Yeah, well, maybe there's a lot you don't know."

Cordelia: (She lets this sink in for a moment. Sincere) "Don't know if it'll do any good, but I'll talk to him." (She leaves.)

Finally, Cordelia and Duncan convince Angel to let Spike see Miranda. Angel insists that his hands stay in the irons, but they remove the ones on his ankles and escort him downstairs. At first, Angel tries to wait just outside the door, but again, Duncan talks him into coming upstairs. Spike sits on a chair pulled up next to the bed.

Spike: "So, uh, hate to be the one to tell you, but you don't look so hot there, sweets. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours? Sorry they kept me away so long—hope you didn't think I'd gone or anything. I guess _he's_ been down here most of the time—s'no wonder your heart's almost stopped. Brings knew meaning to the phrase 'bored to death'. It's been no picnic upstairs. Cold pig's blood through a straw; no smoking. Haven't gotten a wink of sleep—and I thought airline seats were uncomfortable. You'd think he hated me or something. (beat) That Alex is a piece of work, isn't he? Lurking about, slinking from room to room. Creepy. I think you should hire him to work in your shop. (He stops the babbling for a moment as he studies her face. In a softer voice) So I think maybe it's about time for us to hit the road, don't you think? Saturday's come and gone, but I promise I'll call the minute you wake up. The Elvis Impersonators are waiting. (Frowning—it's hard for him to be upbeat when he can sense how close she is to death. He's looking more pensive.) I've been thinking about things, just like you asked. Have had plenty of time to think, being chained to a chair and all. I was cross at first that you'd even have to ask. But maybe things have changed a bit, what with the whole archangel business. I guess it comes down to this. You told me once that you could never be with me, the way I was before. A few months back, you asked me to help you remember things—remember what's right, how to act. As stupid an idea as that was, it's been alright, I think. I can see it most of the time—what's best. I know when we talked about it before, my losing the chip, you suggested we have a list—I don't kill your friends and other than that, I do what I want. Sounded grand at the time. The thing is, I don't think that's good enough. I remember. I can't let you be with a killer. It's not right. So now we're back to the question of the day. Can I give it up? (Thinking about it for a moment) I can say that it doesn't have the obsessive appeal that it once did—think regardless I'd be more selective now. Don't like the idea of certain sorts of people dying. Things were simple back then. Now I'm not so sure. (pause) So what do I know? I know that I love you. Yeah, sorry about being so stubborn and not saying it before—guess it was my stupid little way of reminding you how much you hurt me. I _was_ going to say it—not so good with the long grudges, me—another thing that got missed out on Saturday. (leaning in closer) I love you. I know the pain of not being with you is stronger than any pain I ever got from the bloody chip. So I guess what I'm saying is...I want to be the man you deserve—the man you should be with. Don't know that I can promise. It's not going to be easy. I'm kinda hard-wired for evil, you know? But I'll try. Okay? (Another tear drips down his cheek. Almost to himself) Damn, I hope that's good enough."

Cut to upstairs. Angel is pacing around.

Angel: "It's been two hours."

Duncan: "I don't see what the rush is."

Gunn: (trying to divert attention) "Has Alex been able to put a track on Trachys?"

Duncan: "He hasn't left town as far as Alex can tell. I'm surprised he hasn't made another attempt to get to Miranda."

Gunn: "Maybe he's not too keen on facing you."

Duncan: "Maybe."

Just then, the door to the basement is kicked open. Spike steps through, carrying Miranda in his arms. His left hand is wrapped in a pillowcase that is now soaked in blood—his other hand still has the irons. He must have pulled his left hand through the ring of the iron to get free, crushing some of the bones and taking the skin off in the process. He strides with determination and utter focus across the room towards the front door. As he gets close to the others, he says:

Spike: "She asked me to take her home, so I'm taking her home."

Angel: "She's awake? What did she say?"

Spike: (irritated to be questioned, he answers coldly) "She said, "William, take me home.""

Duncan: (pleased) "Oh, thank God."

Angel: "She's still barely breathing—you sure she spoke?" (skeptical)

Spike just scowls and walks toward the door.

Angel: "You can't just walk out of here."

Spike: "Watch me. (But then, just as he gets to the door, he stops.) I'll be needing a car of some sort. Volunteers, or shall I steal one?"

Duncan: "I'll go with you—Trachys is still in town and you're not in the best shape to protect her."

Angel: "I'll drive. Don't think for a minute I'd let you take her to Sunnydale without a chaperone."

Cordelia: (wanting to go wherever Duncan goes) "You'll need a woman's touch...you know, to do womanly type things. So count me in."

Angel: (to Gunn) "You think you can hold down the fort for a few days?"

Gunn: "Me and English got it covered."

Alex: (appearing from nowhere. They all look at him.) "I don't have anyplace else to go."

Duncan: "The more the merrier, I guess. (to Alex) We'll protect you as best we can."

Cordelia: "So, I'm thinking mini-van?"

Gunn: "My friend Dylan's got a Volkswagen bus—he lives around the corner. Owes me a favor."

Angel: "Call him."

Spike: "Fine, it's a bloody road trip. Can we go now?"

Cordelia: "Wow. Sunnydale, here we come. This should be interesting..."


	37. Chapter 37

Scene 8

They travel to Sunnydale in the Volkswagon bus. It's a quiet trip—everyone lost in their own thoughts. Spike and Miranda are in the seat furthest back. Duncan and Cordelia are in the next seat up. Alex is alone in the third seat and Angel is front, driving. Miranda is not awake and hasn't moved. Spike is holding her on his lap, with her legs along the length of the seat. Both his hands are free of the irons now. Duncan had insisted they be removed back at the hotel. Though disapproving (and scowling), Angel did not put up much of a fight—detecting the almost imperceptible improvement in Miranda's breathing and heartbeat, he couldn't deny the fact that being with Spike was promoting her recovery. With his uninjured hand, Spike gently strokes her hair—his other arm is wrapped around her shoulder and neck, supporting her head. At one point during the trip, Cordelia silently removes the blood-soaked pillowcase from Spike's injured hand and puts a proper bandage on it. By the time they get to the house, it's the middle of the night. They pile out of the van. Angel tries to call Buffy with his cell phone, but keeps getting the answering machine. Spike, carrying Miranda, gets to the door first. He stops.

Spike: (tired, hoarse) "Someone needs to get the key out of my pocket."

His voice startlingly breaks the mood of silence. He looks back. Awkward glances abound. Soon everyone is looking at Cordy.

Cordelia: "What?"

Duncan: "Womanly things?" (Quoting her excuse for coming along.)

Cordelia: "I don't see why 'womanly-type things' should necessarily involve sticking my hand down Spike's pants."

More awkward shifting.

Cordelia: "Fine. But can I point out that you guys are clinically homophobic."

She steps up to Spike and on his indication, thrusts her hand down his left pocket. She frowns after rummaging a bit (not finding a key).

Spike: "ooh—watch the wandering fingers, luv. (Smirking—enjoying her frustration/disgust at his implication.) Sorry, must be in the other pocket."

She rolls her eyes, knowing he did that on purpose and goes to the other pocket, emerging with the key.

Cordelia: (as she's unlocking the door) "And for the record, there was no wandering of any kind."

She holds the door open and Spike strolls in, followed by Cordelia, Duncan and Alex. When Angel tries to go through, he hits the vampire barrier.

Spike: "Sorry, mate. Shoulda mentioned that got reset since the last time you were here." (He's smirking knowingly.)

Cordelia: "Come in, Angel."

He tries, but is still unable to pass through the door.

Spike: "Oh, right—must've slipped my mind. The girls helped her fix it so that only Miranda can do the inviting—seemed extra safe that way. Oops, guess you'll have to wait 'til she wakes up."

Angel: (v. angry at being duped) "Spike. This was your plan the whole time. She never woke up, did she?"

Spike: "I wouldn't have risked moving her if I didn't know that's what she wanted. Believe whatever the hell you have to believe. I'm going to bed."

With that, he heads to the stairs leading to the master bedroom.

Duncan: "I'll keep an eye on them. I don't think he'll try to go anywhere."

Angel: "Cordelia, you should come with me to Buffy's."

Cordelia: "Seems awfully rude to leave Duncan here all by himself. Besides, I'm really tired—it's been a long few days. (fake yawn—she just wants to stay with D). Between the two of us, I think we can handle a one-handed Spike." Ahem.

Duncan: "Go on. I'll give you my cell number and you can check in."

He's quite happy to spend the night with Cordy as well—plus, he's not convinced they're in any real danger.

Angel: "Don't let him take her anywhere."

Duncan: "We'll figure out a way to lock them in."

Angel: (He nods and is about to turn to go. But then he stops.) "Where's Alex?"

Cordelia: "Oh, right, I completely forgot he was with us. (They look around—he's nowhere to be seen) Guess he's off doing his stealthy-stalker thing."

Angel: "I'll be back with Buffy."

Cordelia: "No rush. I mean, can't wait to see her, but no need to pull her out of bed or anything."

He just frowns and heads off on foot. Cordy closes the door and looks around.

Cordelia: "This is some place."

Duncan: "It's nice—she loves it. Stayed for the night once last year. She seemed more at home here than I've ever seen her. Even put a bit of effort in fixing it up. There are four bedrooms upstairs—it goes on quite a ways to the back."

Cordelia: "Probably would be best for us to stick close, don't you think? In such a big house."

Duncan: "Seems sensible."

Spike comes up from downstairs.

Spike: "Getting a midnight snack."

Cordy looks at Duncan rather uncomfortably (midnight snack?), but then Spike reaches in the freezer and pulls out two bags of blood. He puts them in the microwave to defrost.

Duncan: (a bit sheepish) "We might rig something of an alarm on that door (indicating the one leading down to master bedroom) once you go back down—had to promise you wouldn't skip town or anything under my watch."

Spike: (shrugs) "Don't plan on leaving just yet—might need to come up and get her some food once she wakes up, though."

Duncan: "It's just for tonight, while we're sleeping." (He gives a sideways look to Cordelia.)

Spike nods and takes the blood out of the microwave and pours it into a big glass.

Spike: "She's made up all the rooms upstairs—had a bit of time on her hands after we got back from our trip. Take your pick. (He downs half the glass. Noticing the mood between D & C) There's some whiskey in the bar if you want a nightcap."

Duncan gives him a little acknowledging smile.

Duncan: "Thanks."

Spike: (finishing the glass) "Night then." (He puts the glass down and disappears downstairs.)

Cordelia: "What's the plan for the door?"

Duncan: (Thinking for a moment, he shrugs and in a loud-ish voice:) "Alex, you let us know if Spike leaves the basement?"

Cordelia: "But he's..." (before she can finish)

Alex: (voice only—not seen) "Sure thing."

Cordelia: "Ok, that's the tiniest bit creepy."

Duncan: "Shall we have a drink?"

Cordelia: "Yeah, sure."

As they head into the living room (where the bar is)...

Cordelia: "So is it true what Miranda says about Immortal men?"

Duncan: "That depends—what did she say?"

Cordelia: "Good things—something about experience if I remember correctly. Hey, do you smell cat litter?"

xxxxxxxxxxx

In the master bedroom, a few hours later. Miranda is lying on her back on the bed—the room is dark, lit only by a dim candle. We see her open her eyes—blinking them like someone who'd been asleep for days. She barely manages to lift her head and glances down at her body, which is covered by a blanket. She frowns and looks confused. She manages to push the blanket down a few inches with her good arm, revealing two hands, holding one each of her breasts under her t-shirt—she glances over to the hand that she used to push the blanket and then smiles. Just then, there is movement next to her.

Spike: (sleepy) "You're awake. Knew you were close."

He's lying on his side. He pulls one hand out from under her shirt and props himself up on his elbow.

Miranda: (in a soft whisper—smirking slightly) "Good thing you were protecting my breasts."

Spike: "You know the left one warmed up faster than the right—it was downright perky almost an hour ago. Like little hot water bottles. I was thinking about naming them. Laverne and Shirley or Thelma and Louise or (short laugh) Seigfried and Roy."

Miranda: (concerned) "What happened to your hand?"

Spike: "It's nothing—scraped a bit of skin off is all, getting out of those bloody irons. I had a couple of pints of your finest when we got here and it's healing properly now. Be good as new soon enough."

Miranda: "We're home."

Spike: "Just like you asked."

Miranda: (turning her head to face him) "I was afraid you wouldn't hear me."

Spike: "No worries, love."

Miranda: "Did you kill them? 'Cause that would be Ok if you had to."

Spike: "Nah. And NO, it wouldn't. You're not really on board with the whole heavenly creature thing yet, are you?"

Miranda: (weak smile) "I'm not that kind of angel. (beat) Where is everyone?"

Spike: "We're sort of under house arrest at the moment. Duncan and Cordelia are going at it upstairs. Alex is lurking about. Angel's gone off to find Buffy—told him you were the only one who could invite him in. It's fun to make him angry."

Miranda: "You're naughty."

Spike: "Well if he knew I could invite him in, he'd stand there screaming at me all night, or convince Duncan to threaten me or something. Where's the fun in that?"

Miranda: "It's for the best. I'm not much in the mood to see him."

Spike: (more serious) "I was worried we'd lost you—it was you who went away, wasn't it? Not something ol' Lucy did."

Miranda: "I had a bad dream. You'd think I'd be able to tell the difference by now. (It's difficult for her to even say.) Angel killed you—in front of me. I saw you disappear into dust. And then there was only him—his voice. I ran inward—found a quiet place and dug in my heels. I imagined a casket made of ice, climbed in and let myself fall asleep in the cold. Didn't expect it to work so well."

Spike: (leaning in closer) "Well, I'm not dust. (He kisses her on the forehead) Not yet anyway—it's going to be tricky dealing with tweedle-dee and tweekle-dum. Best not to think about that just yet. How do you feel?"

Miranda: "You tell me."

Spike: "You're breasts feel about normal, but I don't think your parts are quite up to speed. Last I checked, anyway."

Miranda: "I'm tired. Still can't feel my leg."

Spike: "From the looks of it, that's probably for the best."

Miranda: "I'd love a cup of tea. Maybe something light to eat."

Spike: "That'll be a trick without waking the masses."

Miranda: "Won't they be up in one of the bedrooms?"

Spike: "Yeah, but Duncan said he was going to set some sort of alarm on the door—Angel's idea."

After a moment, there is a knock at the door to the bedroom. Spike gets out of bed, pulls some pants on and heads up the stairs. He opens the door, but there's no one there. He's about to close the door, when he looks down to see a tray with a teapot, some toast and chocolate covered strawberries. He carries it down. Miranda is trying to sit up, which she manages with the help of some pillows.

Spike: "Must be from Alex. Think we'd have heard if the other's were up."

He puts the tray down on the bed and sits down next to it.

Miranda: "Blimey. He's got serious 'personal assistant' potential. Look, he's even put a couple of pain pills under the butter."

Miranda pours the tea for them both and she nibbles on some toast. Spike feeds her a strawberry.

Miranda: "How long was I out for?"

Spike: "Uh, about three or four days, more or less. Ok, three days, 19 hours and 30 minutes. Not that I was counting."

Miranda: "God, and you were in that chair the whole time? Did you get anything to eat?"

Spike: "Pig's blood. Cold."

Miranda: "Bastard. (pause) So, uh...I guess you had plenty of time to think about...stuff."

Spike: "We've already had this conversation, love. Don't you remember?"

Miranda: "I believe I was unconscious at the time, so I may need a refresher."

Spike: (frowning) "Thought you probably heard anyway."

Miranda: "Sorry. I knew you were there—I heard your voice, but not the details."

Spike: "But there was a whole speech—I'm not going to repeat it."

Miranda: (disbelieving) "A speech. Really?"

Spike: "Well, yeah. There was humor and, you know, emotion and drama. (smirking) It was bloody fantastic and you missed it."

Miranda: "Let's hear it then."

Spike: "Sorry—it was a one-off."

Miranda: (pouting) "Aw, William."

Spike: "No. It'd sound rehearsed if I tried to repeat it."

Miranda: "So give me the nutshell version."

Spike: "Don't really know if I'm in the mood now."

She touches his cheek with the back of her hand, gently.

Miranda: (in a more serious voice) "I know you want to play now, love. I do too, but we should have things worked out before the others arrive."

Spike: (He takes hold of her hand and restlessly moves it around a bit. After a few minutes he sighs. finally…) "I'm happy, M. That's all there is, really. Don't know as I've ever been just...happy. I love being with you—the things we do. I love you. (She closes her eyes when he says this—it's been so long.) I can't imagine anything better than this...and I've got a pretty wicked imagination. The thing is, I want to live this life—I'll try to live this life, but it isn't the life I was made to live. What if I can't do it? What if I mess up? I don't want to hurt you—I don't want to mess things up for you. I try not to think about it—how easy it would be to walk outside right now and suck the life out of someone like I used to do EVERY bloody DAY—but the thoughts come flooding in. (trying to help her understand) The high you get from the Quickening, yeah—think it's not unlike the feeling I get from hunting, killing. I want to resist it, but I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Miranda: (smiling) "Open the drawer in the bedside table for me and pull out the little blue bag."

He does as she asks and hands her the bag (it's from Tiffany's). She pulls a box out from the bag—in the process, she realizes that her arm has healed enough for her to use it. She opens the box and takes something from it, which she quickly hides in her hand. She moves the box and the bag aside.

Miranda: "This is for you." (She opens her hand towards him to reveal a ring. It looks very similar to the one she has, only it's bigger and more masculine.) "I had it made to match the one you gave me—I should've thought to bring it to L.A., but I wasn't expecting you to agree so quickly to the whole commitment ceremony thing. Guess it worked out. I don't see a reason to wait anymore. (She takes the ring between her thumb and index finger and holds it up.) This is me, saying that I know you're strong enough. The way you were in Europe—the way you've been since we've been back. You saved me, William, in more ways than one. You know how to do this. I've seen it in you. If you know what's right for me, then you know what's right for you. And I'll be there to help. Always. So maybe we'll mess up once in a while—doesn't matter. I promise to love you forever. I promise to be with you, no matter what, so long as you try. I believe in you, Spike. With all my heart. Will you take it?"

He looks at it a moment, then takes it and slips it on his ring finger without saying a word. No one has ever said anything like that to him. It makes him feel strong, but in a different way than he has ever experienced strength before. It's something other—something foreign. Who knew after 100 years of being dead, you could suddenly experience a completely new emotion. So it's a challenge. There doesn't seem to be anything to say about it—too many words already today for his taste. Ok then. With his left hand, he takes her left hand and pulls it up to his lips and kisses it. They look into each other's eyes for a moment. Then he takes another strawberry and feeds it to her.

Spike: "Let's have a bath."

Miranda: "Fantastic."


	38. Chapter 38

(Author's note: This is the second chapter published today 1/13)

Scene 9

A while later, we see them in the bath. They are front to back, with Spike against the back of the tub. He is running his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. They look very relaxed, though Miranda's broken leg is still in the cast and so sticks out of the water.

Miranda: "We'll need to get Buffy on our side. If we can convince her, then she'll take care of Angel."

Spike: "So do you really think I was wearing her down?" (She playfully splashes him.)

Miranda: "How could she possibly continue to resist?"

Spike: "No need for such sarcasm, love."

Miranda: (more serious) "She'll try to bait you. She'll do everything in her power to get you to throw the first punch. That's all she'll need."

Spike: "Think I'm going to need a new and more distracting chant to make it through that. She does have a way of infuriating me."

Miranda: "We'll likely have to leave town, regardless. I'll make some calls."

Spike: "She can't force us out."

Miranda: "She's the Slayer, love. It's her town."

Suddenly, something passes in front of the door of the bathroom.

Miranda: "Was that a cat?"

Spike: "What?"

Miranda: "I think I saw a cat pass by the door."

Then a person scoots by the door, saying "sorry".

Miranda: "Dawn?"

In a moment, Dawn appears in the doorway to the bathroom—she is wearing pajamas and has her hand over her eyes.

Dawn: "Sorry. I didn't know you were back. (in a cheery voice) Yay, you're back."

Miranda: "You don't have to cover your eyes, dear, we've got bubbles. What are you doing here?"

Dawn: (Pulling her hand from her eyes, but still looking terribly embarrassed.) "Keeping Cat company."

Miranda: (to Spike) "I told you I saw a cat."

Dawn: "What happened to your leg?"

Miranda: "It's a long story."

Spike: "She fought Lucifer"

Dawn: "Wow. Cool."

Miranda: "Let's go back to why you're here. Isn't it the middle of the night?"

Spike: "Early morning, more like."

Dawn: (fast, nervous voice) "See, I thought you'd only be in L.A. a few days and so I figured I'd surprise you by having Cat here and settled by the time you got back. He was still recovering from being "tudored" (she makes the quote signs) when you were here before. So I brought him over with his things right after you left. Then I stopped by once a day to make sure he had food and stuff. But then you didn't come back so soon and I started to feel guilty about him being all alone and everything in this big house, which I thought might be a little creepy for a cat all by himself, so I decided to spend the night with him. I told Buffy I was sleeping at Janice's because she probably wouldn't like me sleeping here all by myself, even though I'm totally fine about it, but you know how she is and I would have asked her to stay here with me, but Cat doesn't really get along with her all that well. So anyway, I was sleeping upstairs when Cat started scratching at one of the closet doors in the room I was in—it kinda freaked me out, so I opened it to see why he was so interested and I saw there was a staircase in the back. Before I could stop him, he bolted down the stairs and I followed him and here I am. So are there, like, secret passages all over this place?"

Miranda: (confused) "Who is this 'Cat'?"

Dawn: "Oh, I named him after the cat in Breakfast at Tiffanys. Spike got him for you when he was just a kitten."

Spike: "Dawn, I thought we'd already talked about this. He's yours now."

Dawn: (teenager girlie whine) "No, but it's romantic."

Miranda: (turning to look at Spike) "You got me a kitten?"

Spike: "I got a kitten to help me sleep—it just so happens that the one I found fit the description of the kind you wanted."

Dawn: (excited) "Let me get him." (she trots off)

Miranda: "I can't believe you got me a kitten."

Spike: "He's a bloody cat now. And he's kind of clingy if you ask me."

Dawn returns with the cat in her arms. She plops him down in the bathroom. The cat sees Spike and chirps a greeting.

Spike: "Yeah, yeah."

Miranda: (surprised) "He likes you?"

Spike: "Don't sound so surprised."

Miranda: "I didn't think cats and vampires got along."

Spike: "We don't. It's an apparition."

Dawn: "He's really sweet. He plays catch. I brought over his toys."

Miranda puts her hand out and the cat comes up and sniffs her.

Miranda: "He's lovely. I think we can be friends. What do you say, Cat?" (It just sits and purrs at Spike.)

Dawn: "So, I can, uh, go upstairs now. Leave you two alone." (She's goofily excited on their behalf.)

Miranda: "No, no. Just go in the playroom a minute while we get dressed. Why don't I make some breakfast for us?"

Spike: "You can't even stand—how do you propose to make breakfast?"

Miranda: "I can stand—Can't walk, really, but I can stand. I'll just need some help up the stairs."

They get dressed. Miranda is still pretty weak, but other than her one leg, she can move around well enough. Spike helps her up the stairs and she starts cooking breakfast with some help from Alex, who she had to coax out of hiding. Duncan and Cordelia come down at the smell of food. They look suspiciously post-coital. Duncan is thrilled to see Miranda up and about and he gives her a big hug. She whispers in his ear "You are such a slut. I love that about you." After making some bacon and eggs, Miranda is starting to look wiped out again. She gets Alex to help her down the stairs with some breakfast for herself and Dawn (although she doesn't mention to C&D that Dawn is downstairs). She finds Dawn and Spike playing video games in the playroom—it's some sort of deathmatch game and Dawn is giggling because she's winning.

Spike: "You've been practicing."

Dawn: "Hardly. You just suck."

Spike: (waving his bandaged hand, which is now mostly healed) "Hey, injury here."

Dawn: "Tell yourself what you have to. I say you're regressing."

Spike: "Guess I've got better things to do with my hands lately. (catching himself) oh. Sorry. Inappropriate comment for a teenager."

Dawn: "Palease. I'm not twelve."

Miranda: (coming into the room) "Fuel for the game."

Alex is right behind her with a tray, which he sets down and turns to leave.

Miranda: "Alex, this is Dawn. Dawn, Alex"

He gives her an awkward wave and quick smile and then disappears.

Dawn: (After he's left. Giggling.) "He's cute. In a mysterious-creepy-sidekick kind of way."

Dawn and Miranda nibble on some food. Spike eats a piece of bacon.

Dawn: "So tell me about your trip."

Miranda: "Too tired for a full account right now. In a nutshell: I fought Lucifer, found out I was an angel and Spike got tied to a chair."

Dawn: (to the last part) "Again?"

Miranda: (beat) Oh, and we might be moving to New York."

Dawn: (whiney) "No way. But you just got back."

Miranda: "We'll talk about it later. I'm going to take a little nap now. You two keep playing."

Dawn: "Best of five?"

Spike: "You're on."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Thirty minutes later.

An amplified voice from no-where: "Petite blonde approaching the front walkway."

Spike: (looking around, confused) "the hell?"

Dawn: "Sounds like a walky-talky."

They glance around the room. Spike spots the contraption hidden in a plant. He pulls it out and looks at it.

Spike: "He is such a sneaky little bastard."

Alex's voice: "Petite blonde about to ring doorbell."

Spike: "Yeah, we get it."

Dawn: "You have to push the button before you speak."

Spike: "I think he heard me."

Dawn: "So if you move to New York, can I come stay with you guys?—maybe I could come for the summer or something."

Miranda: (dragging herself out of bed) "S'alright with us, but I can't imagine your sister liking the idea. (to Spike) Help me up the stairs. I'll talk to her first. You two keep playing."

Dawn: "ooh. Could you maybe not tell her I'm here?"

Miranda: "If she asks, why don't I just tell her you stopped by on the way home—seeing the car out front, alright?"

Dawn: (pleased with the lie) "I love you guys. You can't move."

Miranda goes upstairs. She's still weak and tired, but healing. Cordelia is already letting Buffy in by the time she makes it to the door. Cordelia is overly friendly and gives Buffy a BIG hug (she's still feelin' groovy). Duncan waves from the other room, where he is hungrily devouring bacon and eggs. As Buffy walks in, Miranda hobbles up to greet her.

Miranda: (mustering her most pleasant voice) "Buffy. Can I fix you some breakfast?"

Buffy: "You're awake. I should call Angel."

Miranda: (frowning—thinking she's calling to tell him to come right over.) "It's daylight—he can't possibly make the trip here now."

Buffy: "He'd want to know that you're alright. He was worried sick about you."

Miranda: "Oh. Fine. By the way, I never actually had a chance to have that little "talk" with him. You didn't happen to mention..."

Buffy: (interrupting—annoyed) "No."

Miranda: "Right, then. I'll just throw on some more eggs. I invited Anya and Xander over for brunch."

Buffy: "What? This isn't a party."

Miranda: "It is now."

Buffy's annoyed, but she takes a minute to call Angel who is still back at her house. She walks into the living room.

Buffy: (to Cordelia and Duncan) "So, is everything alright here? I wanted to check in before heading to work—I'll be back before sundown."

Cordelia: "Everything's peachy. Miranda makes the best scrambled eggs."

Buffy: (confused frown—this scene of domestic bliss is not exactly what she was expecting) "I'm sure she does."

Buffy goes into the kitchen to talk to Miranda.

Miranda: "Are you staying for breakfast?"

Buffy: "No. I have to get going in a few minutes. Just checking in."

Miranda: "We're all good here. I still have to nap every hour or so, and my leg's pretty useless, but considering everything, life is grand."

Buffy: "Where's Spike?"

Miranda: "Downstairs."

Buffy: "Can I use your phone? Mine seems to be running low on power and I have to call Dawn."

Miranda: "Oh, you can just shout if you like—she's downstairs with Spike."

Buffy: "What? (not a nice tone) You left her alone with him?"

Just then, there's a squeal from the basement. Buffy bolts for the door and after crashing it open, flies down the stairs in a panic. She bursts in on Spike and Dawn on the Playstation—Spike is playfully batting at Dawn's controls to throw her off 'cause she's winning again. Dawn is jokingly yelling at him to stop and giggling/squealing. The both look up when Buffy arrives.

Buffy: "Dawn, come here. Now."

Cat hisses at her.

Dawn: "But I'm winning—it's best of 5 and it's 2 and 2 and I'm winning this one."

Buffy: "Dawn. Move away from him."

Dawn: (detecting the seriousness of Buffy's tone) "What's your deal? It's just Spike."

Buffy: (to Spike) "You didn't tell her?"

Spike: "Wasn't exactly the first thing that came to mind, no."

Dawn: "Tell me what?"

Spike is just leaning back on his elbows, shaking his head.

Buffy: (to Dawn—as she stomps over to her and grabs her arm, dragging her across the room) "What are you even doing here?"

Dawn: "I saw that they were home and stopped by. Miranda made me breakfast."

Buffy: "It's time to go."

Dawn: (mopey) "Someone got decaf this morning."

Spike: "Angel's in town—he makes everyone grouchy."

Buffy: (to Dawn) "Spike's chip isn't working anymore."

Dawn: (slight concerned frown.) "Oh. (pause while she thinks this through) So basically, he could have just had me as snack."

Buffy: "Exactly."

Dawn: "We've been playing Mortal Kombat for like, an hour straight and all he's done is let me win."

Spike: (disgusted) "Let's get something straight. I would never let you win."

Buffy: (ignoring him) "That's not the point. Let's go."

She drags Dawn upstairs, eyeing Spike threateningly the whole time. He shakes his head and leans back against the couch. He mumbles something under his breath.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Upstairs. Buffy tells Dawn to wait in the living room while she talks to Miranda.

Buffy: (to Miranda. She's LIVID.) "You really are insane, aren't you? How could you possibly have left them alone? She IS my family. Are you looking for a fight? Because between you and me, you'd lose."

Miranda: "I hope you're kidding, though by the position of your arms, I dare say it's unlikely. Do you honestly think he could ever hurt Dawn? I get your instinct to worry about the average citizen of this fair town and perhaps an inkling of doubt might be understandable in Xander's case, but it is inexcusable for you to think that Spike would hurt a hair on your little sister's head. You shouldn't need me to tell you that."

Buffy: "Things are different now."

Miranda: "Not that different."

Buffy: "He got himself a get-out-of-jail-free card, that's all. Serial killer, remember?"

Miranda: (incredibly frustrated) "Gah! You know what Spike did while we were in Europe? He bloody well dragged me back into a very bad situation, risking serious personal injury to both himself and me, to rescue a girl who simply bore a passing resemblance to your little sister. Could have flogged him at the time. But he couldn't let it go. Don't you get it? He's the same person."

Buffy: (maybe second guessing herself) "Fine. No harm done—this time. I have to go and I'm taking Dawn with me. I'll be back with Angel at sundown. We'll resolve things then."

Miranda: (sarcasm) "Will we, then? Such a relief."

Buffy calls to Dawn, who appears reluctantly.

Dawn: "So can I spend the summer in New York with Spike and Miranda? They said it's OK."

Buffy: "What? No!" (Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she and Dawn leave.)


	39. Chapter 39

_(Author's note: I'm going to be posting these last few chapters over the next day or so--they're finished, just in need of a bit of editing. So be sure you don't skip any, else you may get lost!) _

The minute the door closes, Miranda suddenly looks a bit faint and tries to steady herself against the railing.

Miranda: "Could somebody...? (Her good knee starts to buckle. Duncan gets there right in time and helps her to a couch. Mumbling) "That girl is going to be the death of me."

Duncan: "You're burning up. Let me get you some water."

He heads to the kitchen, leaving Cordelia and Miranda alone.

Miranda: (resting her head back against a pillow) "Good night?"

But before she can answer, Duncan is back with the water.

Cordelia: (to Dunan with a sweet smile) "Would you mind getting me some more coffee?" (He takes her mug and heads back to the kitchen. As soon as he turns his back to them, Cordelia turns toward Miranda and mouths "OhMyGod.")

Miranda: (smiling, knowingly) "This is what I've heard."

Switch to Duncan's POV as he's returning with the coffee. There's all sorts of giggling and whispering going on. All's quiet when he enters the room.

Duncan: (to Miranda) "Are you telling her stories about me again?"

Miranda: "Not so much stories as rumors and gossip."

Duncan: (sarcastic) "Well that's much better."

Miranda: (to Cordelia) "Would you mind giving us a moment alone?"

Cordelia: (quick frown) "Oh. Sure. I should get in the shower anyway."

She gets up and leaves, flashing a smile to Duncan.

Once they're alone...

Duncan: "You're not going to lecture me about getting involved with mortals—'cause this is just a bit of fun."

Miranda: (this hadn't even occurred to her) "Good lord, no. Have fun. I think you both can use it. I wanted to talk to you before Angel gets here. He's going to give you a little lecture on vampires and most likely on Spike in particular, I'm certain of it. It's all true. Vampires are evil and Spike was no exception. In fact, by all accounts, he was rather spectacular at murder and mayem back in the day. I only ask that you base your actions on what you've seen, not what you're told."

Duncan: (He gives her an acknowledging nod, but then adds casually) "Have to say that this is all a bit surreal anyway—vampires, souls, chips, angels...bloody Lucifer. I feel like it's all a Halloween prank or something. I mean, I thought WE had issues."

Miranda: "Best not to think too hard on it. Would you mind helping me downstairs? I need a bit of a rest already."

Duncan helps her to the base of the stairs and then leaves her alone. She can smell the cigarette smoke coming from the other room. She takes a couple of small steps in that direction. A crumpled up piece of paper comes rolling through the door. A second later, Cat pounces on it and picks it up in his mouth and disappears out of sight. Miranda hobbles to the doorway. Spike is still on the floor, leaning back against a chair, smoking like a chimney, looking a bit despondent. Cat trots up with the paper in his mouth and drops it in front of him, adding a little chirp when Spike doesn't immediately toss it again.

Spike: "Real cats don't play fetch, you stupid hairball. Real cats would take the paper and shred it in a corner or something. You're not a stupid dog—have some self-respect."

The cat just stares at him blankly. He shakes his head disapprovingly and then tosses the paper across the room again. Cat happily goes racing after it.

Miranda: "I'm sorry."

Spike: "For what?"

Miranda: "Tweedledee's appalling behavior."

Spike: "Angel's tweedledee. She's tweedledum."

Miranda: "It bothers you, doesn't it? Her reaction."

Spike: (takes a long drag from his cigarette) "Nah. S'better to have her fear me. The way it should be."

Miranda: (She scrunches up her face, annoyed) "Stuff the macho bullshit."

Spike: (pause for a minute) "I could have made her life a bloody nightmare if I'd wanted to. Chip didn't mean I couldn't mess with them all I wanted. Coulda caused a lot of trouble. Shoulda done, for all the difference it made."

He lights another cigarette from the butt of the one he'd been smoking.

Miranda: "I think she knows. It's just easier for her to live in a simplified world."

Spike: "Fuck it. Doesn't matter."

Miranda: "Sorry."

She feels bad for him, but doesn't know what to say—he's pretty over-sensitive about the whole 'used-to-be-in-love-with-Buffy' thing, so she decides not to push it.

Spike: (shrugs) "So what's our plan?"

Switch scenes to Buffy and Angel's conversation

Buffy: "So what's our plan?"

Angel: "Talk. I guess. Bring Duncan over to our side."

Buffy: "To do what, exactly?"

Angel: "Convince Miranda that she's not thinking clearly."

Buffy: "And then what?"

Angel: "We take him out."

Buffy: "And you think she's going to just let us do that?"

Angel: "She's not exactly in any shape to stop us."

Buffy: "But she will get better. What then?"

Angel: "That's why we have to convince her it's for the best."

Buffy: (skeptical) "Yeah, good luck with that. I hate to be the one to bring this up, but she's way into him at the moment—she's seriously skipping down codependency lane."

Angel: "Sure, NOW. But deep down, she knows it's only temporary—a way to pass the time."

Buffy: (Not wanting to burst his bubble, but EEK. She says, not very convincingly) "Maybe."

Angel: "You have a better idea?"

Buffy: "I don't think we can just walk in there and kill him. That's not something she'll deal with."

Angel: "It'll take time, sure, but..."

Buffy: "And in that time, we might have an Immortal indulging in the mother-of-all revenge-themed benders. How willing are you to take her out if she goes all Desperado on us?"

Angel: "That's not going to happen. The whole point of getting rid of Spike is to protect her—protect who she is."

Buffy: "Oh. Excuse me, I though the point was that William the Bloody has his teeth back, not to mention a whole host of newly acquired tolerances to daylight, crosses and holy water."

Angel: (As if this hadn't occurred to him) "That, too."

Buffy: "I'm just saying, I think we need to wait for him to make the first move—if she can see for herself what he is, then..."

Angel: "And who are you prepared to sacrifice as bait while we sit around waiting?"

Buffy: (a bit annoyed by his attitude) "Me. His feelings for me are the strongest. That whole love/hate fine-line thing. If he doesn't attack me, then..."

Angel: (a bit defensive) "He'll attack the next person who comes along. What does it prove if he shows a little temporary self-constraint? I mean, it's not like he can be good forever."

Buffy: (frowns) "I'm not saying that he could. I just think Miranda is going to have to see for herself, else we're the bad guys—subject to her revenginess."

Angel: (suddenly more somber. After a pause.) "You don't think...I mean, it's not possible that he..."

Buffy: (looking concerned) "What?"

Angel: "It's just something Spike said back in LA. He was ranting on about how my real fear is that he won't kill anyone or try, anyway. That I'd be worried that...people...would compare the two of us and wonder why..."

Buffy: "You turn into a homicidal maniac without your soul?"

Angel: "That about sums it up. What would it mean?"

Buffy: "First, I'm pretty sure that Spike still IS a homicidal maniac. But even if it turns out he isn't—if he does manage control himself for a while—it's just because he's had more time to get used to the idea. I mean, with you, it's like a light switch—one minute you're in the light and the next you're in the dark. Spike's been living in 'evening' for a few years now. So it's like his eyes have adjusted. Or something—that didn't quite come out right, but you know what I'm saying."

Angel: "So you think he's changed?"

Buffy: (suddenly defensive) "No, of course not. Well, maybe. (apologetically) A tiny bit. But I still wouldn't trust him—he's the same person."

Angel: (still frowning) "Right. The same person. (pause for a moment of silent brooding) She's my responsibility. She's got this huge weight on her because of what she did for me. I can't let her get pulled down further into..."

Buffy: "We won't let that happen."

Angel: (pause. suddenly sad/notalgic) "It was...nice...having her around. It made everything...easier—clearer. I was afraid to question it—to think too hard about any of it. I should've..."

Buffy: (sympathetic) "Don't. None of us said anything. We were all under the influence of something, right?"

Angel: "Maybe I'm not so sure I was." (Buffy looks at him with a concerned frown, but doesn't say anything. In a minute, he shakes it off and stands up.) So what's the plan?"

Buffy: "We talk to them and see what happens."

back to Miranda and Spike

Spike: "So what's the plan?"

Miranda: "We stall them. As long as possible. Preferably, until I'm strong enough to kick some ass if need be. We talk until we're bloody blue in the face and if they're still on the warpath, we make a break for it as soon as I'm strong enough. And what are you NOT going to do?"

Spike: "Throw the first punch."

Miranda: "Exactly. (thinking about it for a moment) But just so we're clear, there won't be any bonding or hugging either—or touching of any kind."

Spike: "Settled, then."

Miranda: "Could you call Anya and tell her to come over a bit later. I'm exhausted and need to sleep a bit."

Spike: "You invited Anya over?"

Miranda: "And Xander. I've got an engagement present for them. Stalling, remember?"

Spike: "Xander and Buffy. Trial by fire, I see. This is going to be an interesting evening."

Scene 10

A few hours later.

Alex's Voice: "Couple approaching front walkway. With flowers."

Miranda is putting some snacks together in the kitchen (she's been up for about 30 minutes or so)—She still doesn't have use of her leg, but other than that, she's just a bit weak. Spike has been packing a few of their things just in case. A few minutes go by.

Miranda: "What happened to them?"

Alex's Voice: "Couple making out on front porch."

Miranda: (smiling) "Good to know some things haven't changed."

Finally, the bell rings. Spike appears and answers the door. Due to all the excitement with Dawn, Buffy forgot to call Xander to tell him about Spike's chip. So A&X don't know it isn't working. Spike holds the door open, without saying anything. He gives them an eyebrow raise for a greeting.

Miranda: (coming over from the kitchen) "Welcome, newly fiancé-ed."

Anya is all smiley and pushes her hand out for Miranda to see.

Anya: "It's not very big. Or expensive. But I love it like no other piece of jewelry I've ever had." (She's completely sincere.)

Miranda: "It's lovely."

Xander: "What's with the cast?"

Miranda: "Lucifer exploded the bone in my leg 'cause I wouldn't give him his bloody sword back quick enough."

Xander: "Yikes. Wait, Lucifer?"

Miranda: "The master of Hell himself. And you know, aside from the bone exploding, he was a rather decent sort. Not bad looking, either."

Spike: (to M) "If you're alright, love, I'm going to dive downstairs for a bit." (She nods and he leaves.)

Anya: "I saw him once. Made an appearance at one of the big demon galas. Everyone was ga-ga over him. Would've asked for his autograph, but he had a habit of sucking random passersby into his hell dimension, so I steered clear. Cute, though. Nice horns."

Miranda: "I'm not quite recovered from the experience, so excuse me if I'm not myself."

Anya: "Oh, you haven't been yourself since you left for LA the first time without telling anyone you were leaving. Including your employees, who were then left wondering if and when they were going to get paid." (a twinge of bitterness)

Xander: (smiling nervously) "Let it go, honey"

Miranda: "Can I get you two a drink? Mimosas perhaps?"

Anya: "Yes, please."

A moment later, after Miranda has taken their coats, she turns toward the kitchen to go and fix the drinks. But, a tray with mimosas has appeared on a nearby table, so instead, she picks up the glasses and hands them out.

Xander: "How did you...?"

Miranda: "Long story."

Anya: "Friendly ghost?"

Miranda: "Something like that."

They walk into the living room.

Xander: "Anything else exciting happen when you were in LA this time?"

Anya: "You didn't sleep with Angel again, did you?"

Miranda: "No."

Anya: "Two out of three isn't bad. (arm motion) Good for you."

Miranda: (passing frown—quick change of subject) "Uh, I found out I was an archangel—that was rather cool."

Xander: "So the crazy priest guys were right. Huh. Guess I might have to re-think my knee-jerk creeped-out reaction to the collar."

Anya: "Oh"

Anya awkwardly glances around, suddenly uncomfortable and wondering what to do. She bites her lower lip and then turns to Miranda and does a quick curtsey.

Miranda: (can't stop herself from laughing) "I'm not the bloody Queen, Anya."

Anya: (defensive) "Well, I didn't know what to do. I'm not familiar with that whole realm." (She waves her hand up in the air as she says this.)

Miranda: "It's all in the past. No need to start acting all funny around me or anything."

Anya: (Squinting up her eyes. Very serious.) "So do you talk to God?"

Miranda: "I'm quite sure she's taken me off her speed dial—that's why I'm here."

Cordelia comes down the stairs and into the livingroom—she had no idea that Xander was coming over. She's visibly surprised.

Cordelia: "Xander. What are you doing here?"

Xander: "Cordelia. Long time, no snark."

Cordelia: "And this must be demon-girl?" (indicating Anya)

Xander: "Ex-demon. Anya, meet Cordelia."

Anya: "We've met. Former client, remember?"

Xander: "Right."

Anya: "We're engaged (she holds her hand up quickly to flash the ring). Miranda is giving us a present."

Cordelia: "Well, good for you. I wish you lots of little Xanders, because, you know, the world can always use more lo... (Duncan comes trotting down the stairs. Seeing him, Cordelia quickly catches her self and substitutes 'losers' with) lovely children. Duncan, let me introduce you to Xander and Anya. Xander and I went to high school together."

Duncan: "We've met, haven't we?"

Anya: "Yep. Back just before Miranda skipped town."

Cordelia: "Duncan. Now might be a good time to go to that thing I told you about. You know, that place that I wanted to show you?" (exaggerated eye movements)

Duncan: (looking a bit confused for a moment, then getting it) "Right. The thing. I'm not sure it's such a good idea to leave right now."

Cordelia: "Oh, Alex can handle it, can't you Alex? He's got your cell if anything happens."

Alex's voice: "No problem"

She practically pulls him out the door. In her surprise and desperation to leave, Cordelia doesn't think to mention the situation with Spike either.

Anya: (Grumpy to be reminded of why Cordelia summoned her all those years ago.) "Well, I certainly hope you don't cheat on me like you did with her. (mumbling) Maybe Miranda's been giving you tips."

Miranda: (desperate to change the subject) "Anya, why don't we go upstairs. I want to show you something. Xander, can you amuse yourself down here for a bit? Pop the telly on if you want."

Xander: (relieved) "Sure thing."

xxxxxx

Up in one of the bedrooms, Miranda sits in a chair for a minute to recover from the trip up the stairs. Anya waits patiently and they talk about wedding stuff. Downstairs, Xander is munching on some chips and watching TV. He jumps when a voice suddenly announces: "Three females approaching the front door."

Xander: "What the? That's one seriously high-tech alarm systems she's got."

The doorbell rings and it is Willow, Tara and Dawn. Dawn had deviously managed to get them to suggest a trip over, once she told them that M was back in town. They haven't talked to Buffy and Dawn doesn't mention Spike. Xander lets them in and they chit-chat for a minute. He tells them that M and Anya are upstairs doing girlie things. Dawn and Tara head up, but Willow stays to hang with Xander on the couch. When they find them, Miranda is going through boxes in the big closet, looking for something. She's pulled out all sorts of things in the process, and the room is a bit of a mess. Miranda is shocked (but pleased) to see Dawn—she gives her a look like, you know Buffy is going to be hopping mad if she finds you here. Dawn has it in her head that if they all spend the evening here and see that Spike doesn't try to hurt anyone, that maybe Buffy will let them stay and they won't have to move to New York. Tara gives M a big hug.

Dawn: "So what's all this?"

Miranda: "Oh, mostly things I had Spike pull out of the storage room at the shop before those bloody lawyers closed me down. (Finding a big box in the back of the closet.) Here it is."

Anya: "What? What is it?"

Miranda: "Hang on a minute. Give us a hand, will you?" (Tara gives her a hand. They put the large box on the bed.) "Let's have a look shall we?"

She pulls the top off the box and smiles down at what she sees. The others lean in.

Tara: "Oh. It's a wedding dress."

Miranda: "It is indeed. MY wedding dress, in fact."

Dawn: "It's beautiful."

Miranda: "Who wants to try it on, then?" (They all laugh, but take turns trying it on. Lots of giggling and oohs and ahhs ensue. It's rather simple, but with a very long silk train. Obviously made of the very best fabric money can buy. Once they've had their fun, they lay the dress full out on the bed.) "Anya, I want you to have it."

Anya: (conflicted) "Oh, but I was going to look for a sleeveless dress. To show off my slender arms and elegant shoulders."

Tara: (chastising) "Anya. She's giving you her wedding dress."

Miranda: "No, it's alright. Take it for the fabric—have it altered any way you want. My treat. You'll have the dress of a millionaire. Every women deserves to be a princess at least once."

Anya: (getting a bit emotional—sniffling) "Well, in that case...That's pretty much the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Well, except for Xander asking me to marry him, but it's the nicest thing anyone who I don't have sex with has ever done. (She sits on the bed and stares down at the dress.) I'm sorry I said all those awful things about you when you left town. I didn't mean them. Really."

Miranda: (smiling) "It's alright."

Dawn: (looking in another box) "Hey, are these your old clothes?"

Miranda: "I saved a few things."

Tara: "What's this one? It's amazing."

Miranda: (peering over) "That has a bit of a story behind it. It was made for my engagement party."

Tara: "But it's a different style from the rest."

Miranda: "My engagement before I became an Immortal."

Tara: "You've kept it this whole time?"

Miranda: "No, actually. When Spike and I were traveling around Europe, we decided to swing by my old family's estate. I was shocked to find what appeared to be my own grave. We had a little dance on it, just for laughs, but I was intensely curious to know what exactly my parents had buried since it couldn't have been my body. So we dug up my coffin and there inside was this dress. How it survived all those years underground is a mystery. Let's see if it still fits."

They help her put the dress on, complete with corset. For fun, they keep going and put on jewelry and do her hair in the style of the day—she tells them tales of what it was like to be a young lady in society. When they're done, she stands in front of the mirror—she looks absolutely stunning. The dress is ruby-red and made of fine silk. As is typical for dresses of the day, it was quite revealing in the chest area. They hear someone coming down the hall. A moment later, Spike appears in the doorway, mumbling something about being out of cigarettes. Then he sees Miranda and stops talking—she turns to face him, giving him a coy smile. He just stares, speechless. Everyone can see that he is completely transfixed by her in that dress—he doesn't even look like Spike for a moment. He looks almost vulnerable.

Miranda: "So what do you think, William?"

He's still unable to speak—or perhaps he doesn't hear what she said because he's too busy drinking in the sight of her.

Tara: "If he had breath to take..."

Spike: (snapping out of it—noticing the others in the room) "I've seen you in that dress before."

Miranda: "No, you haven't."

Spike: "Have so. Sarah dragged me along the night of your party—she needed me to help her up a tree so she could see into the ballroom."

Miranda: "I never knew that."

Dawn: "Didn't you say that Sarah was your best friend?"

Miranda: "Yes. But I wasn't allowed to invite her to my engagement party—my future husband wouldn't allow it because her family wasn't quite up to his standard. My family was hardly up to his standard, but my father had money, so he made an exception. I was so angry about her not coming that I tried to call off the engagement. You see, it was more than just the party—he didn't want me to see her at all once we were married—well, he didn't want me to be seen with her, more like. My father intervened, of course, and abruptly informed me that I had no choice in the matter. I would marry the bastard and I'd be thankful for the opportunity. As a placatory gift, my fiancée offered to have a dress made for me to wear on the occasion—I could have anything I wanted, spare no expense. Needless to say, I didn't hold back. Not only did I break the bank on the most expensive fabric I could find, I chose a very controversial style for the day. Spike, why don't you explain why this dress would have been considered risqué back in the day? If you can remember."

Spike strolls up to her as he talks.

Spike: "First off, it's red. Proper, unmarried young ladies never wore red. But more importantly, (He is close enough to touch her now and he illustrates his point with his hand) the waistline is a few inches below what was acceptable—see how it extends a ways below her chest? Why, you can practically see the narrowness of her real waist, which emphasizes the outward curve of her hips. An outrage. Heaven forbid a man see the true shape of a woman—he might get improper ideas." (He licks his lips and it's rather obvious the improper ideas he's having right now. He moves in closer and studies her face, touching her neck, down to her chest with the back of his hand. His look is very predatory.) So, are you actually wearing a corset?"

Dawn: "Let's go downstairs and see what Xander and Willow are up to, huh? Maybe there's ice cream or something."

Anya: "Oh, but it's just getting good. I think we've hit serious hidden fantasy territory."

Tara: (grabbing Anya's arm) "Time to go."

As they leave, Miranda and Spike are kissing.


	40. Chapter 40

Angel and Buffy are walking up to the front door of Miranda's house. They stop at the porch.

Buffy: "You ready for this?"

Angel: "Yeah. Why?"

Buffy: "I get the feeling you may be expecting too much."

Angel: "All I need is a few minutes alone with her."

Buffy: (skeptical frown) "OK. (sigh) Let's get this over with."

They ring the bell

Angel: "Whose car is that?"

Buffy turns to look, just as the door opens.

xxxxxx

Back up in the bedroom with M&S. We only see her from the waist up—she's still in the dress. Her eyes are closed and she's looking very happy until she hears the doorbell.

Miranda: "Bloody...not now. Alex? Where's our warning?"

We pull back to see the rest of her—we see Spike's lower legs sticking out from under her skirt (he's kneeling). At the sound of her voice, there's rustling as he pushes up the fabric of her skirts to free himself.

Alex's walky-talky voice: "Uh. Sorry. (Implication that he's been too busy watching them to have his eye on the door.) Er...blonde and spikey-haired oaf at the front door."

Spike: "Guess we'll have to continue this later."

Miranda:(whining/pouting) "Is it dusk already? Guess it's time to face the tweedles."

Spike: "You go ahead. I need a minute."

Miranda: (smiles, knowingly.) "Such a waste. Why don't you head straight down to the basement when you're ready. There'll probably be quite the ruckus in the living room once Buffy finds out the whole gang is here."

xxxxx

Back down at the door. Xander opens it.

Xander: "Hey, Buffy. Come on in. It's a party. There's chip. AND dip. (a bit less enthusiasm) Angel. Didn't know you were in town. What a...surprise."

Buffy: (moving her hand to her face) "Oh god. I completely forgot she invited you guys over. (She rushes through the door.) Is everything OK?"

As she turns the corner into the living room, she sees Tara and Willow on the couch, Anya on the love seat, fiddling with her engagement ring and Dawn laying on the floor, reading the rule sheet for some board game. There's a bowl of chips (and dip) on the table and drinks all around.

Willow: "Hey, Buff. Just in time for Scattegories."

Dawn: "I wanted to play charades."

Xander: "Too much movement and effort involved. Now Scattegories is all about sitting in place. Hey, it's my day off—my goal is to be as sedentary as humanly possible."

Tara: "Should I order a pizzas?"

Dawn: "No olives, please."

Anya: "But I want olives. We never get olives."

Buffy: (completely overwhelmed) "Dawn, you are SO grounded. What is everyone doing here?"

Xander: "We're all just hanging out. What's the big? Wait, let me guess—another apocalypse looming? Hey, the last time we were here, all together like this was...oooh, a very very long night."

Buffy: (to Dawn) "Did you at least tell them?"

Dawn: (shrugs, playing innocent) "Tell them what?"

Angel: "Where's Duncan?" From the doorway—Angel is still stuck outside.

Willow: "Who's at the door?"

Buffy: "Angel—he's in town. (sigh) Where's Miranda? She has to invite him in."

Anya: "She's upstairs making out with Spike."

Buffy: "Great."

Xander: "Duncan went out somewhere with Cordelia."

Willow: (to Xander) "Oh my god, Cordelia's in town? Why didn't you say anything?"

Xander: "I must've blanked it out of my mind."

Tara: "Who's Cordelia?"

Anya: "She used to go out with Xander. Until she caught him making out with Willow."

Willow: "Ok, that is just a WAY oversimplification of what happened, see..."

Anya: "And Cordelia's really pretty. I never understood what possessed you to cheat on her with a lesbian."

Xander: "She wasn't a lesbian at the time."

Willow: "Not helping."

Buffy: (frustrated) "Can we please quit the exposition for a moment? I've got something to say."

They all stop and look at her.

Anya: "Are you pregnant?"

Buffy: "What? No. Why...?"

Anya: "Seemed like a good guess—you're awfully agitated and the last time we were all here and Miranda was agitated and said she had something to say, she was pregnant. But I suppose you have to actually be having sex for that to happen."

Tara can't help but giggle.

Xander: "Not necessarily. Thinking back to the last time..."

Buffy: "Will you all stop talking for a minute. I feel like I'm a junior high substitute teacher or something. (They all apologize and are quiet) Ok. Thank you. (pause) uh..." (as if she can't remember)

Angel: (from the doorway): "Spike."

Buffy: "Spike's chip isn't working."

Tara: "But we were just upstairs with him. (beat) Oh."

Buffy: "I don't think he'll try anything while we're here, but you should protect yourselves just in case. In fact, it would probably be better if you all left."

Willow: "What are you going to do?"

Buffy: "I'm not sure yet."

Dawn: "I still don't see what the big deal is."

Anya: "I'm not leaving without my dress."

Miranda slowly slides down the banister, still in her dress. She hops off onto her one good leg when she gets to the bottom.

Miranda: "Now, that's the way to go down stairs with a cast. Buffy. So glad you could make it to my little party. Is it too much to hope that you're alone?"

Buffy: "Angel's outside. You need to invite him in."

Miranda: "And why would I do that?"

Buffy: "He wants to talk to you."

Miranda: "There's a shocker."

Buffy: "This isn't a game."

Miranda: "I'm well aware of that. I'll talk to him outside if I have to."

Buffy: (just noticing) "And why exactly are you dressed like that?"

Miranda: "Oh, the girls and I were just having some fun. And then Spike and I were having some fun."

Buffy: "Speaking of, where is he?"

Miranda: "Downstairs."

Xander: "Why don't Anya and I go up and get the dress and then we'll get out of your way. Unless you want us to stick around."

Buffy: "Take some weapons just in case."

Xander: "We don't actually have anything handy."

Buffy: "Have a look around—I'm sure there's something you can use."

xxxxxx

Skip forward to Xander and Anya going up the stairs and down the hallway toward the bedroom where the dress is. They're whispering.

Anya: "But if she has garlic in the kitchen, can it really be that much of a deterrent?"

Xander: "There wasn't much else to work with."

Just then, Spike comes out of the room—he's been smoking a cigarette (he found a pack in the dresser) and turns to face X & A.

Anya: "We've just come for the dress. We don't want any trouble."

Xander: "We've got garlic. (beat) Yeah, that just doesn't sound very intimidating, does it?"

Spike: "Guess Buffy spilled the beans, then."

Anya: "Don't come any closer—I've got a cross." (She holds up a small, plastic cross.)

Spike makes a disgusted face.

Spike: "That's pathetic. Buffy tells you that William the Bloody's free and on the loose again and that's all you bring to protect yourself? It's insulting, is what it is."

Anya: (not wanting to annoy him) "Maybe we just figured you like us and so wouldn't be so keen to pounce. (She makes the little pounce hand gesture.) Double dates and all."

Spike: "First, the double dates were beyond painful. And you, I don't mind. Him, well, there's no love holding me back."

He suddenly lunges forward, and before Xander can do anything, he pulls Anya around to him, being sure to grab the cross with his hand (and continue to hold it). He turns her around so that her back is to him, casually brushes the garlic aside (it's hanging around her neck) and plants a big sloppy kiss on the skin above her jugular. He smirks and promptly lets her go.

Spike: "Very effective defense you've got there. Good thing I don't kill people anymore."

Xander scowls. Anya has a slightly 'mussed' look—a little wild eyed, like she kinda sorta enjoyed that. Spike pushes past them and swaggers downstairs.

Anya: (recovered, calling after him) "Hey, were you just smoking in the room with my dress—I'll send you the dry cleaning bill."

Xander: (wanting to say something, but at a loss) "She'll do it, too. It'll be expensive. (once he's out of sight.) Damn, my come-backs need work."

xxxxx

Switch to the living room. Spike comes trotting down the stairs.

Miranda: "I thought you were downstairs."

Willow: (concerned) "Xander."

Spike: "They're fine. Bloody idiots."

Buffy: "Willow, go check on them."

Spike: (knowing Angel must be just outside the door.) "Angel, mate. Anyone dead or bleeding in the house? (silence) See? I do believe he'd say otherwise."

Buffy: "Angel?"

Angel: "They're fine." (Annoyed, heavy sigh. Implied eye roll.)

Spike: (looking around the living room) "And once again, I have to say, this is it? This is your response to my de-chipping. I was expecting crossbows and flame-throwers and re-enforcements. You didn't even think it important enough to call in Watcher-boy. Maybe you DO have a bit of faith in me after all, slayer." (He gives her a little eyebrow-raise.)

Buffy: "Giles is in England—some sort of conference. And I seem to remember this very same group being able to keep you pretty much contained back before the chip."

Miranda suddenly looks a bit faint. She tries to shake it off, but it's obvious she's exhausted.

Spike: "You alright, love?"

Miranda: "Just need to sit for a minute and catch my breath."

He leads her over to a chair and she sits. After a moment.

Miranda: "So, Buffy, what's the plan? The gang's all here."

Buffy: (Looking around, uncomfortable. She's not sure what to do.) "Angel wants to talk to you. Alone."

Spike: (possessively) "No."

Miranda: (reading Buffy's look) "I think it might be for the best, love. It'll give you a chance to catch up with Buffy. We can both have a nice, long chat."

Spike: "You're not going to invite him in."

Miranda: "No, of course not. We'll talk in the shed. (turning to Buffy—still in a pleasant voice) You wouldn't do anything stupid, now, would you?"

Buffy: "Only if he does something stupid first."

Miranda: "One thing to keep in mind—and pay attention, Angel, because I know you're listening. (Her voice switches to a more ominous tone.) It's true I'm still weak and therefore, we are effectively outnumbered, but should you make the decision to...let's be blunt, shall we?...take Spike out, as it were, you had better make damn sure you're prepared to kill me too, because you've never seen fury like mine."

Buffy: (bristling at the threat) "I'll do what I have to do."

Xander and Anya are now at the top of the stairs and have been listening in.

Anya: (interjecting) "But she's an angel. I mean, wouldn't killing an angel be, like, a one-way ticket to hell? (Xander gives her a subtle elbow jab) I'm just saying."

Xander: (whispering to Anya) "I don't think she's that kind of angel."

Miranda: (smiling, back to polite voice) "As long as we understand each other. (turning to Spike) William, will you help me to the door?"

He helps her up and she leans on him as they walk to the front door. As they approach, they see Cat, who is standing just on the inside of the open door, hissing and growling at Angel. At one point, he actually shoots a paw out to swat at Angel's foot—he obviously is aware that Angel can't come in, because he quickly pulls back and retreats hissing.

Angel: "Nice cat."

Spike: "He knows who his friends are."

Spike and Angel glare at each other through the open door. Miranda turns to Spike.

Miranda: "See you in a bit, love. Remember what I said."

She touches his face gently and looks into his eyes. He nods. She turns to hobble out the door and Spike turns back to Buffy, who is now standing behind them.

Angel: "Aren't you going to get dressed?"

Miranda: "But I am dressed—it may not be in fashion, but...(Suddenly realizing what he's referring to. She smirks, remembering what she and Spike had just been up to) Oh. Sorry, left my knickers upstairs. (shaking her head) Get some bloody nose plugs."

tbc...


	41. Chapter 41

Scene 11

Miranda walks through the door, past Angel and starts to hobble down the walk to the shed. He can tell she's tired and despite her protestations, he lifts her up and carries her the rest of the way. They enter the shed, which is actually a decent size, as such things go. Once inside, there is an awkward silence. Finally, Angel speaks.

Angel: "You feel OK? I can look for a chair if...(She shakes her head, but leans back against the side of the structure. More silence.) You look good. Didn't think you'd be up and about so soon. (She's looking down) That dress...it's...you look beautiful."

Miranda: (cold and blunt) "We're never getting back together."

Angel: "Excuse me?"

Miranda: "Men always think that someday, they'll get back together with their ex-girlfriends and I'm here to save you a lot of time and energy and say outright that you and I will never be a couple again. Buffy seemed to think there might be some confusion on that point."

Angel: "You talked to Buffy?"

Miranda: "She was under the misguided impression that what I did for you had something to do with you and me."

Angel: "And it didn't"

Miranda: "No."

Angel: (He's getting upset/agitated. He was sure that once they were alone, she'd be herself with him. His tone is bitter disbelief.) "Let me get this straight, just so we're clear. You gave up a part of your soul and took on half the sins of my past, thereby arranging it so that someday I'd be able to have my soul permanently, with no happiness clause, so that I could be happy with someone else."

He thinks saying it all out loud will emphasize (to Miranda) how ridiculous it sounds—she can't possibly mean it.

Miranda: "Exactly. See, you're not so thick after all."

Angel: "He's not here. You don't have to say these things."

Miranda: "Don't have to. Need to. Else you'll make everything impossible. Besides, it's the truth."

Angel: (This cuts him deeply.) "Then why?"

Miranda: "Honestly, I wasn't thinking all that clearly at the time. I was upset, I cried out and someone with the power to make it happen heard me. That's all. Can we be done with this topic?"

Angel: (looking at her, dejectedly—she's still staring off to the side) "Will you look at me, for god's sake? You can't just pretend it didn't happen."

Miranda: "Can't I?"

Angel: (this infuriates him) "Look at me."

She frowns and then shifts and finally lifts her head to look at him.

Angel: "I love you." (He wasn't planning on saying that.)

Miranda: "Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. I don't feel the same, so..."

Angel: "How can you be this way? After everything."

Miranda: "I don't want to talk about it. (Her voice is still cold, but she's looking a bit upset/teary.) It doesn't matter now—none of it matters."

Angel: "It matters to me."

Miranda: "I said, I don't want to talk about it. (disgust in her voice) I don't even want to think about it."

Angel: (grabbing her arm) "Stop it. It's just us now. It happened. We were happy. Don't you remember? (He's somewhere between anguish and outrage.) We were happy, weren't we? (pause) Or was it all a sham?" (This honestly hadn't occurred to him before.)

Miranda: (Seeing the hurt and confusion in his eyes, she can't help but feel for him. She takes a deep breath. Her tone is more emotional now.) "Dammit, Angel, can't I just be crazy? Wouldn't that be easier for everyone? Can't you at least see that it's easier for me to be this way?"

Angel: (Seeing the distress on her face, he lets go of her arm) "I'm sorry. It's just hard to hear you talk about our relationship like it was bad dream."

Miranda: "Wasn't it? In the end. Sometimes it's better not to think too hard about what's real and what isn't."

Angel: (bitter) "But you and Spike—that's real? You're so sure that you won't change your mind about us, but you've already been through that with Spike. Or does your fickleness only apply to him?"

Miranda: (angry) "Fickle? How dare you. You don't know the first thing about it."

Angel: "Huh. Let's review, shall we? First you loved him, then you didn't and now you do again. I think that comes pretty damn close to the definition of fickle."

Miranda: (deep, angry breath.) "In all the time we were together, did you ever hear me say that I'd stopped loving him? Did I ever once say the words "I don't love Spike anymore"? No, because I couldn't have. I chose you, but I never stopped loving him. That's not what it was about and you know it."

Angel: (He's a bit taken aback by this.) "It was about you." (It's almost a question, as if he's not quite sure anymore.)

Miranda: "Can we stop? This conversation will only lead us in circles. (Pause. Sincere.) I don't want to hurt you anymore."

Angel: (frowning) "So let's start again. Tell me why. If it wasn't about us, then why did you do it?"

Miranda: (sigh) "Remember, it wasn't a conscious thing—it sprung from me. But I think I understand why. I suppose it's because it was the only thing I could do. It was one part of your life that was still within my power to change. All I ever wanted was to help you. You were so lost and I couldn't bear for you to be lost again without me, so this was my way of giving you hope so that you could continue. You're the hero, not me, so who would care if I went a bit loopy."

Angel: "Don't say that."

Miranda: "But it's true. For whatever reason, you were given a purpose. Someone decided that you could make a difference. It's something I've always envied in you, in Buffy. I was put on this earth to fight for a bloody prize—I'm a living piece in a video game. There's no greater purpose in that. But then I saw a chance to help someone who has a purpose. The way I figure it, whoever controls these things—the big players in the universe—can't directly interfere. They do battle by pushing in one direction or another, subtly influencing people and events. They make use of what is available. They wanted to help you, but couldn't do it themselves. They needed me. And, well, it felt good to be needed. To feel a part of something."

Angel: "You think the Powers sent you to me?"

Miranda: "Didn't you tell me that they sent you to Buffy?"

Angel: (He's actually more dismayed by this than he should be.) "So it was all part of a plan. Everything that happened between us. None of it was real."

Miranda: "They couldn't control everything—that's the point. We're not their puppets. They can't control how we feel, or even the choices we make. They threw us together, but ultimately we determined the outcome."

Angel: "So, you did..." (He looks at her, wanting to hear the words.)

Miranda: (softer) "I can't. (He looks away, disappointed) But I do remember."

He glances back to her and nods, thankful for the crumb. She gives him a quick smile.

Long pause.

Angel: "You could still be a part of something."

Miranda: (finishing his thought) "But not if I'm with Spike."

Angel: "He'll drag you down, you know that. He's not like you, like us. You can call him William all you want, but that doesn't make him a man."

Miranda: "He makes me happy, Angel. That's the beginning and the end of it. Trust me to find my own way. Who knows, maybe I can make my own something."

xxxxxx

Switch scenes to Buffy and Spike—they've moved to the back porch for their little chat. They're standing, facing each other, about 3 or 4 feet between them.

Buffy: "So here we are, William." (mocking tone)

Spike: "Here we are." (He looks a bit uncomfortable.)

Buffy: "I'm not in the mood to spend a lot of time on this, so why don't we just get to it?"

Spike: (smirking) "Fine by me. I always had a feeling you wouldn't be much for foreplay."

He starts to pull up his shirt.

Buffy: "What? No. I meant get to the arguing, fighting. Not...(she makes a face.)

Spike: "And here I thought this was all a clever ploy on your part to get back at Angel. I'm sure Alex has video-equipment strung up around here—we could get it all on tape."

Buffy: "You're disgusting."

Spike: "Hey, it was your idea."

Buffy: "No it wasn't."

Spike: "Coulda sworn you gave me a look back there in the house."

Buffy: "There was no look."

Spike: "Come on. A bit of a wink and a nudge—I'm sure of it."

Buffy: "No winking, no nudging. (pause.) I get it. Distraction—nice try."

Spike: "So I distract you? Tell me, is it the tight shirt or the baby blues?"

Buffy: "Stop it. Now. I'm not in the mood."

Spike: "Funny, 'cause..." (She gives him a look that stops him from finishing.)

Buffy: "Getting back to the point—think you can take me?"

Spike: (smirking again) "Depends what you mean by 'take'."

Buffy: (down to business now) "I'm sure you must be itching to take a shot, after all the punches I've thrown at you the past couple of years."

Spike: "I'm not going to fight you, Buffy."

Buffy: "That's pretty smart. You couldn't beat me before the chip, so why would it be any different now? But you never know—today might be your day."

Spike: "Tell me that isn't your best effort. Lame even by your standards."

Buffy: "Come on, Spike. You're a slayer-killer, I'm a slayer—you do the math."

Spike: (scrunching up his face and looking to the side) "Um, in case you hadn't noticed, pet, I lost my desire to kill you quite some time ago. I seem to remember us having one or two chats on the subject."

Buffy: "That's when you had the chip—you couldn't fight me. Now you're chipless, so..."

Spike: "It wasn't the chip that stopped me from killing you—tell me you at least know that. You're not going to make me say it, are you?"

Buffy: (quickly) "No. no. There'll be no saying."

Spike: "Fine."

Buffy: "Good. (pause) But I rejected you. If memory serves, I think I might literally have spit in your face. Doesn't that make you mad?"

Spike: "Ancient history. It's not about you anymore. Hasn't been for a while. You know that, too. This is all very unimpressive—Angel help you with the script?"

Buffy: "So fine, you don't want to kill me. What about the rest of it? Do you seriously expect me to believe that you're not going to kill anyone ever again?"

Spike: "Yeah, that's right."

Buffy: (disbelief) "Come on, Spike. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? And how stupid I would have to be to believe you?"

Spike: "Believe what you like."

Buffy: "So from here on out, it's going to be all puppies and video games and rocking chairs? Not exactly the life I'd expect you to be interested in—you going to get your rocks off planting a garden?"

Spike: "Not puppies...cats. Anyway, there's plenty of ways to get my rocks off with Miranda and I don't just mean in the bedroom...(smiling)...or the shower, or the dining room table or..."

Buffy: "I get it."

Spike: "I can still fight demons and help M steal stuff for her shop—it's good fun, the antiques business. Filled with back-stabbing thieves and intimidation. And I'm pretty good at the whole heist thing so far—takes planning, that. Sort of a new thing for me. I don't see why anything has to be different from the way it has been just because I don't have a bloody chip giving me headaches on a regular basis."

Buffy: "Back to the most pressing question from my perspective—tell me about your newfound respect for human life."

Spike: "I wouldn't go that far. If it were up to me, I'd still knock off the occasional murderer, child molester, thief, lawyer and the like—you know, people who deserve it. But Miranda's a bit more particular, so I promised to swear off the whole lot."

Miranda: "So what happens if she leaves you? I've got to weigh in the possibility of future killing sprees."

Spike: (shaking his head) "She's not going to leave me."

Buffy: (correcting him) "Again. She's not going to leave you _again_."

Spike: (Ok, that's a bit annoying. Still, he remains calm) "She loves me, Buffy."

Buffy: "Drusilla loved you, didn't she? And that turned out SO well. I forget, how many times did she leave you?"

Spike: (He's clenching his teeth. He starts toying with the ring on his finger, twirling it around. After a minute, he looks up, resolute) "Miranda loves me more than anyone ever has."

Buffy: "And you know this because...what, she told you? (laughs, skeptically) How do you know they aren't just words? How can you be sure this isn't just a convenient way to pass the time?"

Spike: "I know because I know her. In point of fact, probably better than she knows herself at the moment. And I love her, so..."

Buffy: (eye roll) "That's kind of irrelevant, don't you think? Your loving her—you seem to throw that word around a lot."

Spike: (Shaking his head—he's trying so hard to explain and she's just trying to wind him up. Fine.) "You're just jealous, is all. You've never had it, love like that. Maybe you coulda done if you didn't have that special way of driving them all away with your super bitch powers."

Buffy: "You're one to talk. At least my exes don't all go running to the same guy...er...girl…er person. It's actually kind of funny when you think about it. I mean, all three women you claim to have loved in your life have all slept with the guy who is your complete opposite in every way. That's got to sting. Oh and I definitely mean funny 'ha ha' funny, not funny 'strange' funny."

Spike: (youch. Let's redirect...) "Which brings up an interesting point, namely the effect your pathetic one-nighter had on 'His Hero-ness'. Maybe this is all about your not wanting to admit the possibility that love can keep me in check, when it didn't have the tiniest little speck of an effect on him. Well, that's assuming he did actually love you at the time. Or maybe..."

Before he can finish, she punches him hard across the jaw. He shakes it off.

Spike: "You are SO easy to wind up, slayer. If the situation were reversed, you'd be dust by now. Personally, I think you still have some serious issues about the whole thing. Have you considered therapy?"

Buffy: "Shut up, Spike. This isn't about me."

Spike: (mock surprise) "What did you just say? Because I can't imagine that I heard right—must be something wrong with my ears. Notaboutyou? And here I thought everything was about you, Buffy."

Buffy: (angry—maybe a bit too angry) "Angel warned me you'd try to turn this around, just like you did with him. How dare you make him question himself—try to make me question him. He's got more integrity, more strength and goodness in his little finger than you'll ever have. Line the two of you up and any woman in her right mind would choose him. Best you can hope for is Miranda to stay a few fries short of a Happy Meal."

Spike: (Jaw clenching, he fiddles with his ring some more and mumbles.) "You don't get it. You can't 'cause you're just like him. Fucking peas in a pod. (quick laugh) Or not fucking, as the case may be."

There's a brief pause where neither of them say anything. They just stand there—the mood cools a bit.

Buffy: (noticing him fiddling.) "She give you that ring?"

Spike: "Yeah. What's it to you?"

Buffy: "You keep fiddling with it"

Spike: "Never been much for jewelry—takes a bit of getting used it, is all."

Buffy: "I seem to remember you wearing a ring not all that long ago. And boy, wasn't that a fun time. You said the nicest things to me."

Spike: (Smiling at the memory. A bit sheepish.) "Got some good ones in, didn't I?"

Buffy: "That's the Spike I know without the chip. That's who I can't let walk out of here."

Spike: "He doesn't exist anymore."

Buffy: "Because of her?"

Spike: "I don't know—because of all of it. You, Dawn...all of it. Maybe having the chip made me see things I wouldn't have seen. (pause) It could've been you—you were the first human I ever cared about. You and your little family. Your mum and your little sis—they treated me like anybody else. But you never gave me a second look—never took notice. I tried the best I knew how and not you or your bloody slayerettes ever saw—you never gave me a chance."

Buffy: "Gee, sorry we didn't all jump on the 'Spike is a good guy' train at the first stop—maybe it's not so easy to get past the idea of the murderous blood sucking fiend we knew so well before."

Spike: (laughing) "You know, Miranda told me once, back when we first got together, that I was lucky you wouldn't let yourself see me. She said I could never be what you think you want and I could never be happy knowing that. I was dubious at the time, but I think she was dead on. Hell, I don't know how this is going to go. Don't even know how things have changed, but they have. One thing I do get is that that you'll never trust me and so maybe you never should—if I live up to your expectations and I'll be snacking on the slurpee guy at the Gas n' Sip before week's end. The thing is, right off, Miranda's been trusting me a tiny bit every day—first one thing, then another. Later on, asking me to do things that no one in their right mind would ask of a vampire and I said as much at the time. But, I don't know, somehow, bit by bit I got used to the idea of just doing it, because...well, just because. (Pause for a moment. He looks straight at Buffy and with the utmost sincerity, says:) Miranda sees who I could be, but loves who I am—that's all the strength a bloke needs, really, to do anything."

Buffy: (Buffy just looks at him for a moment in silence—she can't help but be sympathetic/moved by his little speech. He seems so sincere. She stands there, looking a bit confused. In a small voice.) "Guess it all worked out for the best."

Spike: (Sensing the change in her demeanor.) "So? Come on, say it. Once more." (He puts his hand to his ear.)

Buffy: (Can't stop herself from a small smirk.) "I'm not going to kill you. Right this second."

Spike: "That wasn't so hard now, was it? You going to talk some sense into you're big oaf of an ex, or what?"

Just then, there's a commotion inside the house and Willow comes rushing out.

Willow: "Hey, sorry to interrupt. (Sensing the heavy mood.) You guys weren't having a 'moment', were you?"

Simultaneously.

Buffy: "Kind of." Spike: "No."

Willow: "Anyway, Duncan's on the phone. Cordelia had a vision—We need to get everyone inside."

tbc...

(AN: Just two more chapters left! Honestly.)


	42. Chapter 42

Scene 12

Spike and Buffy head inside. Everyone is still in the living room. On the table is the Scattegories die, turned to 'V'. We see the scorecards, with 'vampire' on the top of everyone's list and then crossed out.

Buffy: "What are you guys still doing here? I thought I told you to take off."

Xander: (guilty) "Uh, we were just watching some TV."

Buffy: (incredulous) "TV?"

Anya: "Alex patched in the video from outside, so we could keep an eye on you guys."

Xander: (Xander gives Anya an annoyed look.) "You know, in case something happened...and, uh...you needed our help."

Buffy: "You were spying on us?"

Willow: "Not just you—he's got Angel and Miranda on video 2."

Tara: "Sorry, we couldn't seem to pull our eyes away."

Xander: "Like watching a train wreck."

Anya: "Or free porn. We all put $5 in the 'action' pool—Xander had fighting, I had kissing and Dawn had hugging. Xander gave me 100:1 odds that if there was kissing it wouldn't be you two."

Buffy: "Guys, this isn't reality TV—it's my life. Our lives."

Xander: "Yeah, but it's your life and it's on TV, so I think that pretty much qualifies it as 'reality TV'—strictly speaking. (off her look) But it is so obviously wrong, that we're ashamed of ourselves and it will never happen again. Right Willow?"

Willow: "Hey, it wasn't my idea."

Tara: "Actually..."

Willow: "So Duncan called and..."

Angel arrives at the door, carrying Miranda. Alex had informed them of what was going on via walky talky. Angel hits the barrier.

Angel: "Well?"

Miranda: "Promise no fighting?"

Angel: "Fine."

Miranda: "Everyone heard that? (nods) Come in, Angel."

He steps through the door and sets Miranda down on a chair—she looks spent.

Angel: "What did Duncan say?"

Willow: "Cordelia had a vision—about us."

Just as she starts her next thought, Alex comes sliding down the banister of the stairs, look freaked out. They speak simultaneously.

Willow: "Trachys is on his way." Alex: "Trachys is close—maybe 5-10 minutes."

Willow: "(to Buffy) He's an evil, very strong Immortal-type. Cordelia seemed to think that he's after Duncan. And he's bringing back-up."

Miranda: "Why would he be coming for Duncan? I'm the easy target."

Spike: (to Alex) "When did Trachys leave the day of the rumble?"

Alex: "Just after Miranda and Lucifer started fighting."

Spike: "He probably assumes you lost."

Miranda: (defensive) "Seems a bit rude for him to just assume that I'd get my ass kicked. I was doing really well there in the beginning, wasn't I?"

Spike: (slightly uncomfortable) "Yeah, well, better than expected. It _was_ Lucifer, love."

Miranda: (frowning) "Fine."

Alex: (getting freaked out) "But she's not dead and she can't fight him."

Angel: "How far away is Duncan?"

Willow: "They're about 20 miles outside of town and stuck at a train crossing—I'd say 45 minutes at least before they can get here."

Alex: (pacing) "What are we going to do? Where can we go?"

Miranda: "Nowhere. If he's this close, it's not worth running. At least we've got familiar surroundings."

Angel: "So we immobilize him when he gets here—between me and Buffy, we can take him down pretty easily."

M & Alex: "No."

Alex: "It's against the rules."

Angel: "I don't really see how the rules are relevant if she's dead."

Miranda: "They do matter. However, there is some flexibility. You can stall him, certainly, and take away his back-up, but if he wants to fight, I have to fight. Besides, you shouldn't underestimate him—he'll do anything to get to me once he feels I'm here. Nobody is safe. (looking slightly panicked) Somebody help me out of this bloody dress."

Spike hands a cigarette to Alex, because he looks so freaked. He takes it and starts puffing frantically.

Spike: "Hang on a minute. When he gets here, he'll be surprised to find you alive. He's likely to think that your battle with Lucy was just like any other Immortal battle, right?"

Angel: "Yeah, so?"

Spike: "So if you're alive..."

Miranda: "He'll think that I won. The thought of me channeling Lucifer should intimidate the hell out of him. No pun intended. On second thought, I'll take the pun. (deflated) But once he sees me, he'll know I haven't had the Quickening."

Pause while everyone thinks. Suddenly Xander stands up and points his finger.

Xander: "I got it. Man in Black. She can be the Man in Black."

Buffy: "Willow, translation please?"

Xander: "THE MAN IN BLACK—you know, from The Princess Bride. Work with me, people. André the Giant, Shrieking eels, Rodents of Unusual Size, Prince Humperdink? (blank looks) You people obviously _studied_ in high school."

Alex: "Inconceivable?"

Xander: (excited, he points at Alex) "Inconceivable!"

Miranda: "We're familiar with the film, Xander, What's your point?"

Xander: "Oh, right, so after they bring Westley, The Man in Black, back to life—well, he was only mostly dead—they went to the castle, but he was still all floppy and stuff. So they propped him up and made it look like he was perfectly healthy. So when the prince came to fight him, after many insults and lots of talk about pain, the prince surrendered thinking that Westley would kick his ass. So we dress you up and make you look like you won the fight against Lucifer and the evil scary guy will wet his pants and go running along home to his creepy minions. Do evil Immortals have minions? Well, whatever. You think you can talk the talk?"

Miranda: "Oh, I can talk the talk. I've been told I do a very convincing 'crazy' (glance to Angel) and so 'evil' shouldn't be too much of a stretch. And maybe with a bit of chemical inducements, I can walk the walk. I think this is probably our best bet."

Xander: "Ha! Misspent youth saves the day again. Now, if we only had a wheelbarrow. That would be something." (Smiles to himself.)

Miranda: "Spike, can you get the white case from the medicine cabinet? (He nods and rushes off.) Now, I need help looking the part—I'm visualizing scanky-bitch-bride-of-Satan or something similar."

Anya: "I can totally do that."

Miranda: "Girls—upstairs for my makeover. Buffy, Angel—if they arrive before I'm ready, stall them any way you can. Alex, you keep a lookout for any of his people trying to sneak into the house."

xxxxxxxx

A few minutes later, Miranda comes back downstairs, supported on either side by Willow and Tara. They have given her severe Goth-like make-up, put black streaks in her hair and Willow has done a little spell to give her skin a lightly red tint. She is wearing a tight black pleather top, but still has sweat pants on over her cast—Anya is carrying leather pants down the stairs for her to change into. They set her down in a chair and she plops the leg with the cast onto an ottoman so that it's sticking straight out.

Miranda: "We need to cut off the cast."

Tara: "Isn't the cast kind of necessary for you to stand?"

Miranda: "I can't fit the pants over the cast, and everyone knows that evil people wear leather pants."

Willow: "Good point."

She starts to work on the cast—it's not plaster, and so is easier to remove.

Miranda: (wincing in pain) "Can someone find me a cigarette? (justifying) Evil people smoke—it's a well known fact."

Spike appears with a lit cigarette—he hands it to her and she responds with a nervous smile.

Spike: "You look...interesting."

Anya: (defensive) "We didn't have much to work with and there was no time for paper maché. I think she looks kind of scary—if you squint your eyes and pretend you've never seen a real demon."

Spike: "Or she could be on her way to a Marilyn Manson concert. Which to me, is a bit more frightening."

Miranda: "I thought there should be horns, but..."

Anya: (said with conviction) "Fake horns are insulting. (re-assuring) We'll cut the lights on the porch—it'll be fine."

Spike: (with the 'she's crazy' voice) "Okay. (to M) Here's the drug box—what's your pleasure?"

Before she can answer, Alex' voice (out of breath) comes over the intercom.

Alex: "He's just up the street. He's got about 10 men with him. Angel and Buffy have gone to intercept. Hurry."

Miranda: "Quick, the adrenaline." (Spike looks through the vials and tosses her one, then hands her a needle. She fills the needle. Looking around to the others) "Don't try this at home—professional on a closed course."

She jabs the needle into the quad of the bad leg and winces in pain. The others help to pull off her sweats and put her pants on.

Spike: (disappointed) "Aw, you put your knickers back on."

Miranda: (She can't help but smile. To Spike.) "I love how one-track your mind is. (Quickly switching gears.) The adrenaline is going to give me about 10 minutes—after that, I may pass out cold. If it doesn't work and I go down, I want you to take Trachys out before Duncan gets back. And just so we're clear, I want you to take his head."

Spike: (nods, frowning) "No worries. You ready for our big entrance?"

They can hear shouting and fighting just outside the door.

Miranda: (to Spike) "Here we go. Probably would be best if you got all bumpy before we head out."

xxxx

Switch scenes to outside the house. Trachys and his men are slowly pushing towards the house. Angel and Buffy would have more easily been able to take them out, except that they have guns—so Buffy has had to be careful and more defensive than usual. As they reach the porch and Trachys feels the presence of an Immortal, he puts his hand up to stop the fighting.

Trachys: (loudly) "It is no longer prudent for your people to interfere, Duncan. You risk disqualification, now that we are in proximity."

Angel: "Duncan's not inside."

Trachys: (laughing) "I don't know what you are or why this is your business, but it is pointless to lie. I can feel him. Only one Immortal in this region has such a powerful presence."

Buffy: "Or maybe, your information is outdated."

Miranda walks out of the house, arm-in-arm with vamped-out Spike (he's covertly supporting her left side as she walks).

Miranda: "Duncan's not here."

Trachys: (visibly surprised) "Miranda? I thought you were..."

Miranda: "Dead? Now what would have given you that idea?"

Trachys: "I...uh...I didn't think..."

Miranda: "That I could beat him? I am just a girl, after all. (laughs) With a few tricks...and a very, very nice little sword."

Trachys: (Skeptical. He looks at Spike and then at Angel, who is now in game face as well, then back at Miranda.) "So where's the sword now?"

Miranda: (Crap—why did I bring that up? She had thought, briefly, about trying to disguise one of hers to look like it, but there was no time.) "We made a deal, ol' Lucy and I. I beat him, fair and square, but he didn't die like any other Immortal—not completely anyway. You see, most of his essence was still tied into another realm. But, he's a fair man, so he offered to give me all the power I could handle—the sum of what he'd been able to manifest with the help of his priests on that day—in exchange for the sword. That way, he's got the power down below, and I've got the power here to do his will—it's win-win."

Trachys: (thinks about it for a minute) "Nice story, little angel, but do you really think you can fool me with Halloween make-up? I mean, honestly, what are these guys supposed to be—vampires? Please."

Miranda: "Spike, would you care to show my good friend here, what you can do with your Halloween make-up?"

Spike gives her a look and then takes a step away from her—he looks relieved that she's still standing. But before he leaves the porch, Angel grabs one of Trachys' men.

Angel: "I'm closer—and hungrier."

He chomps on the guy's neck and then tosses him so that he lands at Trachys' feet.

Miranda gives Angel a fleeting smile. Spike looks a little disappointed.

Trachys: (coolly assessing the situation, kicking his 'man' over on his back, so that he can see the bite marks.) "One more thing." (Miranda's hand is starting to shake. She quickly wraps it around the handle of her sword.) "If you're so powerful now, why stand there telling me instead of taking my head? You don't seem overly anxious to fight. Maybe it's all a bluff."

Miranda: "But don't you see? We're on the same side now, inasmuch as there are sides in our little game. There's still so much fighting to be done—why not spread the burden? Better to be you and me in the final battle than bloody Duncan or Samuel—least that's what He says. Besides, you've done well, but you're hardly worth killing now. Much better strategy to let you rack up some more points before taking you down. (sigh) I rather had my heart set on Duncan for today, but I could conceivably be persuaded otherwise. I do hate to wait."

She rights her sword and takes a step forward, threateningly.

Trachys: (now uncomfortable) "No, no. By all means, save your energy for Duncan. Until next time."

He signals for his men to leave. Frowning, he quickly heads off. It takes a while for them to be out of sight, so Miranda signals to Spike to come help her (covertly), while she summons all the energy she has to keep standing. After a moment, she goes limp.

Miranda: "And I'm spent."

Xander comes out onto the porch.

Xander: "Hey, it worked! I would've thrown in a few more threatening comments about pain and torture, but whatever."

Miranda smiles at him.

Spike: (to Xander) "I suppose you're only mostly useless."

They all go inside. Miranda's eyes are fluttering.

Miranda: "Can someone get me some coffee? Maybe with a bit of whiskey?"

Alex appears with the coffee and hands it to Miranda. She takes a few sips and uncharacteristically, Alex sticks around. After a couple of minutes.

Alex: (Sheepish, sad. He takes a deep breath before saying.) "I...I should take off."

Miranda: "What?"

Alex: "Now that Trachys' watcher knows you're here, They'll know I'm here and...you know. I should run, or something. I'm better at hiding, but I should probably run first and then hide."

Buffy: "Who are you, anyway?"

Alex: (in a small voice, pointing to Miranda) "I watch her."

Miranda: "He's only supposed to watch, but he helped me—he saved my life. They'll punish him for that."

Alex: "That's the best case scenario. It's an ancient rule I've broken—a sacred vow. Who am I kidding, I deserve whatever they decide. I'm a complete failure."

Miranda: "I'll have none of that attitude in this house, young man. I hereby banish the word 'deserve' from these premises."

Dawn: "Can't we do anything? Talk to them?"

Alex lets out a nervous laugh.

Spike: "I'm thinking 'no'."

Miranda: (to Alex) "Do you want to leave?"

Alex: (Upset by the idea that she might think he wants to.) "No...I'd never want to leave. I've never done anything else."

Spike: (to Miranda) "Maybe you could hire him—to work in the shop or something."

Alex: "I'm not very good with people."

Spike: "Oh, I was thinking more security, inventory—behind the scenes stuff."

Miranda: "I think Alex's skills could come in handy on any number of projects. Still, we have the problem of his previous employer."

Aside: Buffy says to Angel, "Can I talk to you for a minute?". They disappear into another room.

Alex: "I should go. It's dangerous—they're pretty focused and not very nice. I wouldn't want anyone to..."

Miranda: "I've got an idea."

Just then, there's a voice on a megaphone from outside.

Voice (female): "We've got the house surrounded and secured. There's no chance of running. Please send the watcher, Alex, outside to us and no one will get hurt."

A whimper from Alex.

Miranda: (whisper to Spike) "Carry me to the door. (He does. She opens the door a crack and shouts.) "What do you want with him?"

Voice: "Miranda. We do not wish to inconvenience you in any way. Please, do not trouble yourself to protect him, for such things are beneath an Immortal such as yourself. Send him out and we'll be on our way."

Miranda: "Tell me why."

Voice: "As you wish. He is defective and we will, of course, replace him immediately. In all likelihood, he will only need reprogramming."

Miranda: "Yeah, that may be a problem. Hang on a minute." (She closes the door.)

Spike: "They're talking about him like he's a bloody computer."

Willow: "'reprogramming' just isn't a word that should be used in reference to anything that breathes (noticing Spike) or eats. Creepy."

Miranda: "Alex, I think I may have a way around this—you up for giving it a go?"

Alex: (gulp) "Sure."

Miranda: "Spike, bite him."

Alex: (nervous) "What?"

Spike: (getting it) "They won't take him if they think he's already dead."

Tara: (confused) "And how is him being dead better?"

Miranda: "Spike won't actually kill him—just give him a big vampire hickey and take enough blood to make him pass out. These watchers don't know squat about how this vampire stuff works. Spike, take Alex downstairs and come back up when you're done. Everyone else, go hide somewhere. This whole hanging with the undead sure has its advantages. It's like having a re-usable 'get out of jail free' card."

Alex: (looking nervously at Spike) "Reprogramming isn't sounding so bad now."

Spike: (grinning, looking a bit too enthusiastic) "Don't worry, mate. It'll only hurt for a minute."

They go downstairs. Miranda hobbles to the door and opens it.

Miranda: (acting a bit sheepish) "Um, I think we need to have a bit of a chat. I'm afraid there's been an...er...accident."

The woman who was talking cautiously comes forward, followed by two big body-guard looking guys. Miranda summons them inside, indicating that she needs to sit down.

Woman: "Where's Alex? There's no sense in hiding him—we know he's here."

Miranda: "Yeah, that's the thing. He's sort of here, but I don't think you'll be interested in any reprogramming once you see him."

Woman: (coldly) "Reprogramming is only one of our options."

Just then, Spike returns from the basement.

Miranda: "This is my partner, Spike. These are...er...Watcher people. (Spike just stands next to Miranda's chair and nods) The thing is, Spike is a vampire. Show them your teeth, love. (He does and they all start to look very nervous) Oh, not to worry, he's not going to hurt any of you—he doesn't bite people. Well, he usually doesn't bite people. This is where things get a bit messy. See, we have been harboring little Alex—sweet boy, really. He did save my life, as you know, and so I felt a certain obligation. But, as fate may have it, my lover here got a bit peckish in the middle of the night last night and just couldn't resist. It's worse than giving up cigarettes, apparently. I intervened just in time, so he didn't exactly kill him."

Woman: (gulp) "Not exactly?"

Miranda: "He'll wake up in a few hours. As a vampire. Listen, I'm dreadfully sorry about all this. If there's anything I can do. (beat) Within reason."

Woman: (skeptical) "I'd like to see him. I'll need to take some pictures for our records."

Miranda: "Of course. He's in the basement."

They go downstairs and find Alex laying on the bed, bite wound prominently displayed. The woman pulls out a camera and takes a few shots.

Woman: "Well. I have to say, this is absolutely unheard of. I will have to consult with my superiors to see if any action is necessary. For now, we'll take our leave of you. Sorry for any inconvenience we may have caused." (She bows her head, respectfully.)

Miranda: (overly pleasant) "No, I'm the one who should apologize. Just one more thought, before you go. You may want to instruct any future watchers assigned to me, to keep their distance, at least for the time being. We wouldn't want any more unfortunate accidents now, would we?"

Woman: "I'll be sure to mention it."

They leave. Miranda slaps a bandage on Alex's neck and then collapses on the bed, next to him.

Miranda: "This has got to be one of the longest days of my entire life."

Spike: "Yeah. We've had a lot of those." (He flops down next to her, so now all three of them are on the bed.)

In a short while, Buffy comes downstairs. She says that they're all heading back to her place. She's also convinced Angel to leave with Duncan and Cordy when they get back—that he's agreed to look the other way for now. She goes on to say that as the slayer, she can't take the risk of letting them stay in town—any slip-up would be her responsibility and she is not ready to have that hanging over her head. Plus, them leaving town was part of the bargain she struck with Angel to get him to leave. They can have time for Miranda to recover and to make arrangements, but Spike is pretty much under house arrest until they leave—if she finds him out and about, she'll kill him. Here end-eth the lesson. Ahem. After she's gone.

Miranda: (sleepily) "You get all that?" (yawn)

Spike: "New York, here we come."

Miranda: "I'll make some calls in the morning."

Spike: "I don't think Cat is going to like snow very much."

(pause)

Miranda: "No offence, but...I still can't stop myself from feeling that Buffy's kind of a bitch."

Spike: "Yeah. But she's cute—in a predictably angry and close-minded sort of way."

Miranda: "I guess."

tbc...


	43. Chapter 43 THE END

Writer's note: I wrote a little Miranda and Spike PWP a while back for the amusement of my beta readers, which chronologically should go here. I'll edit it as best I can, but be warned that there is strong sexual content & language (after lots of fun verbal banter)! The thing is, unlike the rest of the story, I wrote it from Spike's point of view (just for yucks). I've pasted it in below.

Scene: At home with Miranda and Spike. Spike's POV.

I hate summer. Twelve bloody hours of daylight can give a vampire cabin fever something awful. Sure, I've got it better than most now, but nevertheless, I'm not inclined to dive out into the California sun at midday. Hurts my eyes. And I burn easily. Just as soon stay inside and sleep or watch the telly or...(eyebrow raise) I wonder what Miranda's up to. Heard her slink out of bed at a ridiculous hour. She's been rather obsessed with tidying the past few days. If I get up and find her, she might try to get me to do something and I really can't be arsed. Still, could be the perfect opportunity for good row. The thing is, Miranda's always been good about putting me in my place—not taking any shit. That's not to say that I give a lot of shit—at the end of the day, I'd say I'm better than most. But, I do, on occasion, deserve a good tongue thrashing. I can't help it—I'm a bloke and I do and say stupid things now and again. Nothing too godawful, but things I really shouldn't get away with. Used to be, she'd let me have it good when I messed up and truth be told, I didn't much mind. She's downright irresistible when she's angry. And honestly, I need someone to keep me in line—left to my own devices, I have a history of putting my foot in it. Go figure. But that's all changed. Ever since that business with Angel, it's like she's stepping on eggshells around me. I can do no wrong, which frankly is absurd. I get that she feels guilty and all about everything—well she should, but I'd rather things just got back to the way they were. So lately, I've been pushing it a bit to try to get a rise out of her. Aside from a few promising sighs, nothing's come of it. She's got to have a breaking point, though, so I keep with the game. Yeah, I'll see what she's up to.

(He puts some pants on and heads upstairs. He finds her folding laundry. She smiles warmly when she sees him.)

Miranda: "You're up early today."

Spike: "Was that sarcasm?" I say, hopefully.

Miranda: "It is the earliest I've seen you up all week. Since the house-cleaning started, I think."

Perhaps, we're getting somewhere.

Spike: "Think I may be allergic to cleaning fluids."

Miranda: "I see. Perhaps we can work around that. How do you feel about brushes? The front hall needs a good sweep."

Spike: "I try to stay away from things with wooden handles. Wouldn't want to slip and end up a pile of dust—would rather defeat the purpose, don't you think?"

Come on, love. Tell me to get my finger out of it.

Miranda: (shaking her head) "Remind me to pick up one of those swiffer things—the handle's made of metal as I recall. (pause) Did you boil the empty blood bags last night like I asked? They were really starting to smell."

Spike: "Nah—ended up going out for a bit of poker with the lads."

This is a complete lie. I did clean the bags AND the bloody freezer, too. You might not guess it, but I'm rather a tidy bloke, me. Especially not fond of odd smells about. And she knows she would have heard about it from the idiot patrol if I'd gone out. Still, She stops folding for a moment and looks down. Oh, we're close. She's tightening her lips like she does when she's cheesed off. She takes a deep breath and I'm ready for the onslaught. I feel myself get just a bit hard in anticipation. Wait. Uh oh. No frown. Usually the frown comes right after the tight lips and THEN the scolding.

Miranda: (in a much too pleasant voice) "We have to have everything ready to go by Friday, so if you could get to it tonight, I'd appreciate it."

(She goes back to folding.)

Damn it. The thing is, I don't like annoying her, really and I HATE it when she holds it all inside and acts all nice and pouty and everything. All I want is a good-humored row that will lead to a rousing bout of apology sex. Is that so much to ask? The sad truth is that just the thought of getting a rise out of her has given me a bit of a rise and now I know what I want to do with the rest of the daylight hours. Perhaps a change of strategy is required at this point. I can switch from useless to seductive on a dime, no worries. I light a cigarette and watch her—no need to rush things. Every time she bends over to pick up a piece of laundry to fold, I get a nice flash down her shirt at those wonderfully rounded breasts of hers. Miranda's got exactly the right sized breasts—a nice hefty handful. Is that a new bra? It looks very insubstantial, which I like because it lets them hang and sway freely. Nice. She's standing up straight now and the top of her knickers are just showing over the seam of her sweat pants. Purple. Wonder which ones those are. I start reviewing in my mind Miranda's collection of panties when suddenly I realize that she's talking to me. All I hear are the last three words...

Miranda: "...would you mind?"

Brilliant. I have no fucking clue what I'm supposed to say. Could go either way on that one. And from the way she's standing, I'm quite sure she's already repeated herself due to my lack of response. Seriously what I really want to know is how likely is it that my answer will bugger up my chances of getting laid this afternoon. I'm a pretty good guesser, though, especially when it comes to women so maybe I can pull this one out. To give myself another few seconds, I take a drag from my cigarette. The next thing I know, she's pulling the cigarette out of my mouth and throwing it out the window.

I say "Hey, I wasn't finished with that yet." I wasn't.

And she says, now quite irritated. "I thought we'd agreed no smoking in the house this week—we've got to get rid of the smell before we pack everything up. I asked you twice nicely to put it out. Honestly, William, sometimes I think you deliberately try to push my buttons."

Oh yeah. My lad's at full attention now and I'm suddenly regretting my choice of such tight fitting trousers. Nevermind. Still not as much venom in her 'honestly, William' as I would have hoped, but it's the best so far. And the frown. Yep. I fight the urge to say something about what buttons of hers I'd like to push. There's an art to knowing at what point to let on that you're gagging for it. My instincts tell me to hold back. Well, my instincts and the fact that she's now doing the worst job of folding laundry I've ever seen. Seriously, she's punishing the clothes. Now, unlike most blokes who would stupidly ignore this little clue and assume everything's alright now that their bird's stopped talking, I'm going to take it to mean that she is, in fact, angry with me at this point. I am the laundry, so to speak. So maybe she needs a bit of warming up before I indicate my desire to shag her rotten. Hey, I've learned a few things in my 130 odd years. 'Course there is a certain appeal to the more direct route, which involves simply picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. A bit risky in this situation. It could backfire. Right, warming her with my irresistible charm it is. I walk over and lean against the table with the laundry. I touch her arm, gently and with the sweetest voice I can muster say.

Me: "Hey, sorry about the fag, love. I completely forgot. I can spend the rest of the day downstairs and you can open all the windows up here—it'll air out."

She just shrugs, but I think she's warming.

Me: "We'll get it all done, no worries. I'll stop being such a slacker. Promise."

Miranda: (small smile) "I'm just a bit stressed, is all. (she shakes it off) Just keep me company while I finish the laundry, alright?"

I give her my best smile. She starts folding and I start lightly running my hand down her back and around her waist as she works. I get a little smile from her. She playfully bats my hand away when I tug on the exposed part of her panties, so I run my hand down over her ass instead.

Me: "I don't see why you bother with these" I say as I snap the elastic from her knickers on her bum through her sweat pants.

Miranda: "Trust me, they're useful."

Me: "Just another layer of fabric between my hand and your ass, is all, if you ask me. Nothing useful in that."

Miranda: (shaking her head) "But they're pretty...And sexy." She says as she tosses a handful of knickers from the laundry at my face. I look at them.

Me: "Not sexier than what's underneath."

Yep, we're getting there. Any moment now and it's over the shoulder and into the bedroom. Or maybe right here on the table...

Miranda: (playfully) "We've been through this before, William. Any self respecting woman in this society wears undergarments most of the time. It's just something we do. Now let it go."

As I leisurely sift through the heaping mound of knickers on the table, I manage to mutter under my breath in response "Dru never bothered with any of that business."

Hang on a minute. Did I seriously just say that out loud? Please tell me she didn't hear it. What was that before about saying stupid things? I freeze, afraid to look in her direction. Maybe she wasn't paying attention. But then she abruptly turns to face me. Fuck. I'd like to point out that this is actually the first time I've accidentally brought up Dru. Come on, that's not bad considering. I think about telling her that, but I just get this feeling it would only piss her off more. I also think about playing it cool—what's the big deal? Most blokes out there wouldn't even think twice about a comment like that. I, on the other hand, know women enough to understand that that one little sentence could get me cut off for a week. Damn. I shoulda gone with the direct approach. I scrunch up my face and look up guiltily.

Miranda: "Tell me you didn't just say what I think you said."

It's the most fire in her eyes I've seen in quite some time.

I offer hopefully: "It wasn't me."

Who says you can't learn anything from the bloody radio? Nothing wrong with a bit of humor in these situations, I always say. Her lips are doing something I've not seen before—they've almost disappeared entirely. There's just a thin pink line where her mouth is. Ooh, there go the nostrils. Here we go. Now, you're probably thinking that I should be pleased at this development—after all, I had just been trying to wind her up tight enough to pop. But the thing is, ex-girlfriends are tricky. Especially ones who have chained and tortured your current girlfriend. Well, it's not so much that as that bloody dream she had—Angel's memory of me and Dru in our heyday. S'made her a wee bit insecure. Tricky, like I said. Will have to handle this delicately if I have any chance at all of getting in her pants.

Miranda: "Dru may not have bothered with undergarments, but she was also a_ crazysadisticbitch_, with whom, I do not appreciate being compared, William. I cannot believe..."

I interrupt her before she picks up momentum—I've got an idea.

Me: "That's an awfully rude thing to say about someone you've never met."

This throws her, and all she can muster is a look of complete confusion (mixed with anger, of course).

Miranda: "What?"

Me: "Drew Barrymore, the curvy bird from Charlie's Angels. You didn't think I meant Drusilla, did you? How stupid do you think I am?" Smooth. Actually, the first 'Drew' that came to mind was the fat guy with the glasses, but I figured knowing anything about his dressing habits would make me sound kind of gay.

Miranda: "Drew Barrymore—as in E.T. child star. And how exactly do you know anything about her tendency to wear knickers?"

Me: "There was an expose just the other night on Access News or Hollywood squares or whatever the bloody show's called. Yep, it seems ol' Drew likes to go commando and it became quite the source of angst and ire on the set of her new movie. Seems it made her co-stars uncomfortable, what with the short skirts and all." Clever—It's all in the details.

Hey, can't blame a guy for trying. I think I may see a glimmer of a smile—at the very least, I hope to get a few points for effort. I give her my best innocent bystander look.

Miranda: "You're insane. What a load of bollocks. You're not getting off that easy—you were talking about Drusilla, full stop. What dreadful timing. This is how you were going to seduce me?"

Wha? How did she...? Women are bloody psychic. We men don't have a chance.

Me: "What makes you think that's what I had in mind?"

Miranda: "Come on, William. You always get this look when you have a hard-on. I can always tell. It's one of the most adorable things about you."

I'm not buying it. Must just be a lucky guess.

Me: "You don't always know. " Ok, so maybe I'm a bit defensive.

Miranda: "_Always_"

This is rather disconcerting.

I blurt out: "I bet you didn't know the other day at the Waffle House."

This does get a smile.

She responds, sarcastically "I didn't know hash browns got you so worked up."

I say, with maybe a wee touch of petulance: "See, you don't always know."

Miranda: "Most of the time. Back to the topic at hand. What has gotten into you lately? You've been acting like a right prick and I'm not about to stand here and take any more. I've tried to cut you some slack, what with recent events and all, but this is too much. It's time you took the finger out of your ass and started being more than just a layabout around here."

Blah blah blah, she goes on a bit, but I just tune out and focus on her beautifully angry face. There's my girl. But suddenly, her expression changes and she stops in mid-scold.

Miranda: "You've got a boner again."

Dammit. It's times like these that I wouldn't mind seeing my reflection a bit more clearly.

Miranda: "You've been doing this on purpose. You've been winding me up this whole time."

She looks at me like she can't quite figure out why I'd do it. It's true, of course, except for the Dru comment—that was an honest mistake, but I'd much rather she think it was part of the plan.

Me: "I just want things to be like they were."

She does her little quick confused frown thing—I can see her mind working. After a minute, we lock eyes and I can tell she's figured it out—she knows exactly what I'm talking about. There's another thing's good about Miranda and me—we don't need to spell things out so much. We got a way of understanding each other. True, things got a bit muddled there for a while, but I think we're back on track. I swear I can see the tension lift off her. No more eggshells to step around.

Ooh, I like the look she's giving me now—a wry smile with some steam behind it.

Me: "Are you undressing me with your eyes?"

Miranda: "Now that would be a useful trick. How's that erection coming along?"

Ah, Miranda. Not one to faff about. That's one of the things I love about her. Well, that and the fact that she can fuck like no one I've ever been with. Or heard of. So the question of the moment: is it over the shoulder and down to the bedroom, or a quickie up against the wall to get things rolling? Off her look, I take a step towards her and press her back into the wall with my body. I grind my pelvis into her, letting her feel my hardness. She lets out a small gasp—it's bloody music, that. The friction is nice—feel like I could pop the buttons on these levis in a minute if things keep going like this. She kisses me hard on the mouth and takes a nip at my lower lip—naughty girl, I can tell she's up for a bit more than usual by the fact that I'm now tasting my own blood from her little love bite. She pulls her head back and looks at me with almost a snarl and dammit I've got to get out of these jeans and into her body in the next few seconds. I grab at her sweats and pull them and her knickers down to just above her knee, letting my fingers cop a feel on the way back up. Just as I work my fingers between her lips, I feel her hand reach out and grab hold of my cock through my jeans. I can't help but let out grunt of approval—says she likes it when I make noise, so I try not to hold back. And, god she's wet already. Don't know how she manages it sometimes—I swear she can go form zero to dripping in less time than it takes me to get her naked. And I'm pretty fast at that, what with my brilliant hand-eye coordination and, well, vampire strength if I'm in even more of a hurry. I can't help myself from sliding a finger in, between those amazing warm, slippery folds. It's her turn to sound ridiculous. I think I'd describe it as some kind of squeal/moan hybrid. Whatever it is, the pressure in my pants is getting unbearable. I kiss her again, pushing my tongue deep in her mouth imitating what I'm about to do further south.

Breaking away, I say "So, you gonna set it free or do I have to beg?"

She takes hold of my belt and unfastens it. She unbuttons the top button and then stops.

She says: "What do you plan to do with that monster once I let it out of its cage?"

She does love her dirty talk, M. Personally, I don't have the patience for it, but I'm willing to compromise.

I reply in a deep forceful whisper: "Well, first off I plan on sticking it in that warm, wet hole you've got down there. And then I'm going to pull it out and stick it back in and pull out and stick it back in and I'm gonna do that as many times as I can possibly manage before I explode. And afterwards, if you're lucky, I may start all over again."

Miranda: "Well that sounds lovely, William, but what's in it for me?"

And with that, I decide I'm not going to play the game anymore and I quickly pull the rest of the buttons, lift her legs around me and push myself deep insider her. Now comes the loudest and most ridiculous noise she'll hear from me today. You might think that would be later, as things reach their peak as they say, but you'd be wrong. It's impossible to describe exactly what it feels like when I push my room-temperature todger into her 98.6 body the first time. It's like my boy 's being licked by tiny tongues of fire—it's close to pain, but of an utterly exquisite variety. Today's more extreme than usual, as I just got up and haven't had anything to eat—I'm cold as a stone. Or was cold as a stone. After I push in, I hold the position for a minute, savoring the intensity of the contrast—soon the brilliant pain subsides, as her heat warms me. The heat travels up through my groin and by the end of it, will have warmed my entire body. Well, assuming we keep at it. Just at this moment, I decide I want to fuck her all day. I never know until we get started whether it's going to be a one-off or a day's work. As I start to thrust, feeling the glorious friction caused by the motion, intensified by those amazing muscles she has that are like massaging sponges, I figure I'll fill her in on my little plan.

I whisper in her ear as I start to forcefully dive in and out of her. "I want to fuck you all day. (thud thud) I'm going to keep driving my dick into you from as many different directions as I can think of and for as long as it takes to make you swollen and sore. (thud thud thud) I want to fuck you 'till you beg me to stop."

Sounds a bit harsh, but from the sounds she's making, she's up for it. As this is just the warm up, I decide to be a bit selfish and keep up the current pace without interruption, knowing that I won't be able to hold it long. She's breathing heavily now and calling out my name (it's always Spike when we're fucking) as she digs her nails into my back. Yeah, she's having a good time—she'll get hers plenty before the day's through, so I'm not going to pull out any special moves just yet. (thud thud thud thud) I'm so close. I swear I feel her grip me tighter from the inside and my knob feels as big as the bloody Empire State Building. I'm just going with it, feeling the pressure build—I'm slamming her pretty hard now. Hope it's not too much, too soon for her, but to be honest at the moment, I don't think I could slow myself down. She starts to let out little yelps of pleasure—she closes her eyes. God, she's beautiful. I'm just about to give in to it and put an end to the warm up, when she starts to pant and says in an almost surprised voice,

"I'm gonna come."

What? Now? Oh, Jesus. She almost never comes from just this—no fingers, no props—least not in this position. Ok, then. Change of plan.

She whines "just a little more, baby." (thud thud thud)

Oh God, so now I have to wait, because seriously, despite what I said before, when Miranda comes with me inside, all bets are off. There will definitely be more ridiculous noises coming from these lips. In desperation, I start trying to think of non-sexy things. (thud thud thud) Oh, but she's biting my ear and those whimpers. No. Must wait. (thud thud thud) If only I could think of something. Football--Manchester U. (thud) No. Uh, BBC documentaries. (thud thud) Xander. Don't want to overdo it now. What was that line from the Austin Powers movie? 'Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day', 'Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day'. That might work for a few more seconds. (thud thud thud) Oh this is it. I can feel her start to clench—she's holding her breath. She lets out a scream, which frankly, I barely hear because I'm fixated on what feels like a million tiny fingers alternately gripping and releasing my now enormous rock hard member. I stop the thrusting for just a moment to take in the sensation. And then I feel it hit like a tidal wave. I no longer have control over my body as I feel my pelvis reflexively thrust quickly a few more times as my body releases what seems like a gallon of liquid. And yes, I couldn't stop myself from uttering some sort of groan/wail that probably sounded something like

"ugghau..gguuuahhhuhhh."

Oh, shit—it's a knee trembler, that. Literally, my knees are gone. I fall on my ass. That's the problem with shagging upright—the knees. Miranda just slides down the wall until she's sitting on the floor with me. She's got quite the pleased grin on her face. So much for the warm up. I shake my head, trying to clear the orgasm induced cloud from my brain.

Holding back a giggle, Miranda says with a pathetic attempt at a straight face: "That wasn't bad."

I say "not bad? I'll show you not bad."

I pull my trousers off the rest of the way as I get to my feet, pull her up and toss her over my shoulder, her bare ass next to my face. Uh, oh. Here it comes. "phewapp"—Is the sound it makes as her hand slaps my naked ass. Ouch that stings. She can never resist when she's over my shoulder like this. Says she likes the sound.

"Am I going to have to beat you?" I say.

"Please." she responds in the usual way.

I turn to the staircase leading down to the bedroom.

She blurts out "Wait, the windows."

And so I swing her around and stroll over to the front windows to open them. Get a quick flash of sun on my ass as I turn away. It sort of tickles. I take her downstairs and toss her on the bed. She giggles and then quickly makes her way to the edge as I hop on the mattress with a big bounce.

"Be back in a moment, love." She says as she makes her way to the loo.

I watch her go and then return in a minute with a steaming hot wet washcloth. She pulls off the sweatpants and her socks. The washcloth is to wipe off the baby gravy that has now collected on the curlies of her lips and run slightly down the inside of her left thigh. She puts her left foot on the bed as she slowly wipes the liquid first from her thigh and then upwards to the slightly parted lips of her furry cup and I can't help but think that's got to be about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Just the idea that the juices were moments ago deep inside her, put there by me during that earthquake of an orgasm. The old chap's at full attention again. This time, no facial expression necessary to give it away. I take hold of it because, you know, it's there and big and that's just what we men do. I watch her toss the washcloth aside when she's finished and then strip off her shirt and bra. I never get tired of watching her. It's funny because I've got a box of sex toys, videos and the like sittin' in the closet, still waiting to be cracked. I brought 'em from my old place thinking we'd break into it sooner or later to add a bit of spice to things. But we haven't—never think of it until we're already going and then it hardly seems the effort. Good to know it's there, I suppose. We'll get to it. What's the rush? Not to sound all twee or anything, but this love business changes things a bit. Makes you need less to get off, I suppose. Listen to me, being all philosophical while I hold my enormous wanger.

"That for me?" She says in a damn sexy voice, glancing at what's in my hand.

"If you want it"

"Hm. Maybe I need to taste it first."

She crawls on the bed and comes at me on all fours. Hm. Tempting, but I think I need to taste her first. That mouth of hers is dangerous and I'd rather let it build a bit. So I reach out, grab hold of her leg and flip her onto her back.

"Me first." I say as I get off my back and onto my knees.

I start with a little nibble on her neck. I try to cover every inch of it with the exception of the little scar from the last time I bit into her. If I were to happen to find my teeth in that spot, it might be impossible to pull away. It's been a while—she's been recovering for a bit and I don't want to risk putting her out again. Another time.

"You gonna bite me?" She whispers.

I can tell she wouldn't mind. I feel my cock twitch at the thought.

"Maybe later. I'll surprise you."

I hear her breath catch. This is our exciting new game. The uncertainty gets her very hot, though she must know that I wouldn't today. Still, we'll play. I slowly make my way to her breasts—can't leave the girls out of this. I suck her nipples and then blow on them 'til they get nice and hard. Perfect. Then down further, tasting the dried sweat on her skin from our more quick and vigorous bout. Just as I pass her belly button, I feel her legs open wider. She's not terribly subtle 'bout what she wants. Can't blame her. I give bloody fantastic head. Besides, I'm a man and couldn't give a flying fuck about subtlety. I scoot down and get in position. I take a look at the beautifully shiny, pink folds peaking out at me from behind her outer lips. I let my tongue slide in between, opening her up more. Hm—warm and sweet. She's still a bit swollen from the vigorous thrusting, making everything just a bit more firm to the touch. She lets out a delicious gasp when my tongue first touches her most sensitive area. I move my tongue here and there, taking my time. I like being in such total control of her pleasure, knowing I have the ability to make her scream and writhe whenever I want. Soon, I settle on the part that induces the most whimpers and set to serious work. The faster I flick my tongue, the louder her moans and the harder I feel myself get. Any man who doesn't find the whimpering sounds of a woman nearing orgasm unbearably sexy shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a muff. God, she's getting close and her legs spread even wider and I think I must be leaking a bit, it's so fucking hot—she's grasping at my hair now. I think it's going to be a loud one. Her breathing stops for an instant and then she grinds her pelvis into my face as she screams loud enough that I swear the neighbor's dog starts to bark. Sometimes I worry she'll set off car alarms. I can feel her opening squeeze against my tongue. Even more wetness now. I'm careful not to move my face until she relaxes and the pulsing just about stops. There she goes. A bit of giggling perhaps? Miranda's a bit of a giggler. Found it a bit off-putting at first, honestly. You're grinding away after she comes for the second time and she's giggling like a hysterical teenager. Kind of hard to focus. But now I like it. Means she's relaxed. I work my way back up and kiss her softly as I slip my ridiculously hard willie straight in. I'm warm now, so it's not so shocking as before. Still feels fantastic, though—so slippery. I thrust a few times and then she decides she wants to be on top. We roll over and I take in the sight of her riding me—her breasts bouncing lightly with each of her pelvic thrusts. I could seriously do this all day. Not to brag or anything, but I've got some serious stamina, especially after getting the first load out of the way to take the edge off. So I just sit back and let her work on me a bit. So good. Hmmmmm. I close my eyes for a moment, enjoying every squeeze and twist of her body. Then a sudden cold as she raises herself off me—I can't help but let out a complaining whimper.

"Be patient. It's only for a second—haven't gotten that taste yet." She purrs as she scoots down and quickly takes me in her mouth.

Oooohhh yeah. Uh. Mmmm. Now I watch her lips slide up and down on it with her ass waving up in the air—not a bad sight, that. Again, I'm ready to do this all day. I reach down and touch her hair as she sucks me in and out—she can't fit all of me in at once, so she squeezes the base with her right hand. My mouth's starting to get a bit pasty, what with all the fluids rushing down to a certain highly sensitive area. Still, I'm ready to drag this out—maybe in just a minute, I'll push her off and take her from behind. That'd be fun. In a minute. Wonder if she'll...

"uhuhhhghhhg. Aahahggfuck. Aawwwjesusaaaah." (etc., etc.)

She's started that thing she does—the thing where one minute I'm in complete control, enjoying the moment in a fairly relaxed way, and the next I don't think I could remember my bloody name. Seriously, my mind is wiped clean by the sensation of whatever the heck she's doing to my cock. She's in total control now. It could all be over in a matter of seconds. Never think to ask what exactly is going on down there, but I'll bet it involves many different muscles, swirling, sucking and squeezing. There must be hands involved and maybe massaging. Honestly, I couldn't give a fuck because I'm going to shoot my load deep into her throat and I hope she's ready for it. I'm making any number of outrageous noises now—so much for stamina. I can't stop myself from grabbing hold of her head and thrusting deep into her throat. It feels unimaginably good. I feel the spasms start and...

"uhgahgahhagshgeszegoh"

I think time has elapsed since my last conscious thought, but I can't be sure. No, it must have done, as she's now kissing her way up my abs to my neck. I let out a huge sigh, followed by a pleased purring sound. She smiles warmly at me.

"That's quite a mouth you've got." I stammer.

"That's quite a todger you've got." She replies, pleased with herself.

"Is it naptime?" I say with heavy eyelids.

"Sounds about right."

We'll save round 3 for a bit later, I think. She drapes herself across my chest and nestles her head into my neck. I run my hands across her back. This is nice. This is very nice. Maybe summer isn't so bad after all.

END SEX

Scene 13

A couple of weeks pass and Miranda and Spike have packed up the house and have loaded what they're taking to New York in a moving truck. They've left a lot of the furniture. Miranda has signed over the deed to Willow and Tara, who can do what they like with the house until they die, at which point, Miranda will have the option of taking back possession of it. Alex is driving the moving truck and Miranda and Spike are traveling by car. Alex leaves ahead of them. Miranda and Spike are having one last cigarette by the car before they leave. Miranda is looking at the house, trying to hold back tears at leaving it.

Spike: "We should push off soon. Long drive and all."

Miranda: "You think we'll be back?"

Spike: "Dunno."

Miranda: "You're supposed to say 'Of course. We'll be back before you know it.' to make this easier."

Spike: "Never been much for saying things to make people feel better."

Miranda: "Yeah, I know."

Spike: "So what are we going to do when we get out there?"

Miranda: (shrugs) "I still like the side-kick idea...with the shoes and all that."

Spike: "Traditionally, only heroes and villains have side-kicks, love."

Miranda: "What about criminals or mobsters?"

Spike: "Girlfriends, maybe, but not side-kicks per se."

Miranda: "I don't want to just be a bloody girlfriend."

Spike: "With me not killing anyone, that limits our choices somewhat."

Miranda: "We've got 36 hours in a car to come up with some ideas. Do detectives have side-kicks?"

Spike: "Maybe, but that's kind of boring, isn't it?"

Miranda: "We could be demon detectives—there could be lots of fighting and mayhem."

Spike: (skeptical, shaking his head) "Not grabbing me."

Miranda: "We'll figure something out. (They put out their cigarettes and move to get into the car.) Oh, but more importantly we have to decide about Halloween costumes. I want to have a big party and invite EVERYONE."

Spike: "We don't know anyone yet, love."

Miranda: "But we will. Maybe we should go as the Beckhams—you can wear that ManU t-shirt I bought you and one of my sarongs. But how would I dress as Posh Spice?"

Spike: (They're driving away.) "That is the stupidest idea you've ever had. Why don't we just go as Sid and Nancy again? The chest carving went over well last time. And you know I always like you in fish-nets."

Miranda: "You're not getting into the spirit of this—we have to be original."

Spike: "Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee. You could get some big melons and a blond wig—Alex could help with the video."

Miranda: (eye roll) "Not a chance. Perhaps we should move away from reality a bit—too scary. What about Breakfast at Tiffany's—I'll be Holly and you can be Fred. We've already got Cat."

Spike: (Spike makes a disgusted face.) "I retract my previous assessment of your stupidest idea ever. (beat) Courtney love and Kurt Cobain—Hey, I'm already dead, so that part's easy."

Miranda: "You've always had a thing for her, haven't you?"

Spike: "She's got a certain appeal."

The chatting fades as they pull away. We catch the car again, as they drive past the 'Sunnydale' sign. The car screeches to a halt and Spike jumps out, breaks off the sign and tosses it in the back seat. He gets back in and they drive off.

THE END


End file.
